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A Sailor of Fortune 



-^^ 



A Sailor of Fortune 

Personal Memoirs of Captain B. S. Osbon 

BY 
ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE 




NEW YORK 

McCLURE, PHILLIPS ^ CO. 

MCMVI 



LIBi^ARYo< CONGRESS 
Two Copies R«celve<t 

SEP 19 1906 

CLASS JY • XKC, N» 
COPY B. /• 






Copyright, igo6, by 
McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. 

Published, September, 1906, N 



COPYRIGHT, 1905, 1906, BY PEARSON PUBLISHING COMPANY 



^ Foreword 

In preparing these chapters I have endeavoured faith- 
fully to preserve certain annals of a remarkable life. 
It has been my privilege to set them down from the 
lips of the narrator, only amplifying from such re- 
ports and records as would complete the pictures and 
give them connection and adequate setting. 

In so far as possible the effort has been to retain the 
phraseology in which the stories were told to me, 
though no literary skill of mine could adequately re- 
produce the inimitable manner of the telling — the 
modulation of speech, the play of countenance, the 
subtle humour that was as often a matter of the in- 
flection as of the word. These things the reader will 
have to imagine, each in his own way. 

The book is history — some of it unwritten history 
heretofore — of our own land. Its subject has helped 
to make that history, and in thus allowing it to be 
recorded has added a further service to the nation he 
has served so faithfully and well. 

Albert Bigelow Paine 



Contents 

PAGE 

I. Then and Now ....... 3 

II. The Making of a Sailor .... 5 

III. The First Naval Experience . . 10 

IV. The Beginning of a Great Voyage 13 
V. The Tale of a Would-be Pirate . 18 

VI. Into the Antarctic 23 

VII. Into the Arctic 27 

VIII. How the Old "St. Mary^s " Made 

History 30 

IX. The " Isle of Sacrifice " . . . . 32 
X. More Savages, a Few Minstrels, and 

Many Pirates 39 

XI, I Join the Anglo-Chinese Navy . . 44 
XII. I Buy a Chinese Family and Join a 

Pirate Brig 50 

XIII. I Winter in the Arctics .... 56 

XIV. By a Long Passage I Reach My 

Native Land 60 

XV. I Enter the Argentine Navy and 

Win a Command 65 

XVI. An International Complication and 

THE End of Revolution ... 71 
XVII. I Command the " Louisa Kilham/' 
AND Find Adventure on the Coast 

of Ireland . . . . .. ,., ,., . yd 



viii Contents 

PAGE 

XVIII. I Abandon Sailing Vessels and En- 

couT^TER Dangers of a New Sort 83 
XIX. I Make a Venture into the Lecture 
Field and Embark in Newspaper 

Work 90 

XX. I Meet the Prince of Wales, and 

Enjoy his Friendship .... 96 
XXL The Beginning of the Civil War . 105 
XXII. My First Meeting with Abraham 

Lincoln 109 

XXIII. I Engage in a Second Attempt to 

Relieve Sumter 112 

XXIV. The Arrival in New York . . . 125 
XXV. I Join the " Herald " Staff and a 

Great Naval Expedition . . . 129 
XXVI. I Witness the Fall of Port Royal, 

and am Among the Wounded . 138 
XXVII. I Undertake a Secret Mission for 

Secretary Welles 150 

XXVIII. Some Journalistic Adventures . 156 
XXIX. An Expedition against New Or- 
leans 162 

XXX. With Farragut under Trying Con- 
ditions 172 

XXXI. The Passing of the Forts . . . 188 
XXXII. The March of the Victors . . . 199 

XXXIII. Bearing the News Northward . 208 

XXXIV. I Carry News of the Seven Days' 

Battle 217 

XXXV. I Join a Unique Naval Expedition 222 



Contents ix 

PAGE 

XXXVI. The First Encounter of Monitor 

AND Fort 226 

XXXVII. Another Trial at Fort McAllister 233 

XXXVIII. We Get the " Nashville " at Last 238 

XXXIX. Mr. Fox Catches his Game at Last 247 
XL. I Become Part of the Mexican 

Problem 253 

XLI. The Creation of a Navy . . . 259 
XLII. Great Plans, and What Came of 

Them 263 

XLIII. The Mexican Navy Distinguishes 

Itself 269 

XLIV. An Exciting New Year's Eve . . 275 
XLV. I Attend the Havre Exposition, 

AND Welcome Mrs. Farragut . 287 
XLVI. I Have Dealings with Napoleon 

III. — A Remorseful Emperor . 293 

XLVII. Various Enterprises, and Asphalt 301 

XLVIII. A Mysterious White Race . . . 308 

XLIX. Locating Cervera's Fleet . . . 315 

L. In a Quiet Harbour 325 



A Sailor of Fortune 



I 

Then and Now 

ONE reason why I have seen so much is this: 
when as a sailor I went ashore " on oppor- 
tunity," instead of steering straight for a 
gin-mill I strolled off to get some idea of the port and 
of the manners and customs of the people. When I 
returned to the ship I was regarded as a sort of en- 
cyclopaedia of general information, and I kept my 
knowledge fresh by frequently turning it over. That 
is why I have remembered. 

Another thing, — there was a good deal more to see 
in those early days. Pirates, cannibals, and mutineers 
abounded, and added romance, and even zest, to a 
seafaring life. The steam and telegraph were un- 
known and strange things took place on the high seas, 
which never could happen in these days of shortened 
time and quick communication. The Pacific Ocean 
was then a vast and almost uncharted mystery into 
which men and vessels disappeared, to be heard of no 
more for months, for years, perhaps forever. News 
was the rarest thing we knew — next, reading matter. 
A small piece of newspaper would be read and re-read 
by every sailor on board. When we visited other ships 
it was called " gamming," and the first question asked 
was, " Have you seen any whales? " and then, " Have 
you anything to read?" The Bible was read in our 



4 A Sailor of Fortune 

forecastle, from end to end, seven times within a 
period of eighteen months. Messages from home — 
did not come. I was once absent five years and eight 
months and returned without knowing whether a sin- 
gle member of my family was alive. 

You will see how different things were then. The 
ocean was a world unto itself — the law of the sea was 
not like the law of the land. The story of much that 
happened in that time would be set down now as a 
" sailor's yarn," but nothing which a sailor could in- 
vent would be more marvellous than the simple truth, 
and this, as I saw it, I shall try to tell. 



II 

The Making of a Sailor 

MY great-grandfather's name was Osborne — 
a manufacturer of corn brooms at old Had- 
ley, Massachusetts. In those days it was 
customary for broom-makers to use a burning-brand 
in marking their goods, and my ancestor, requiring 
one, sent for it to Boston. There is no doubt but that 
he was a very poor penman. The maker of brands 
deciphered his name as " Osbon," and thus it was 
spelled on the brand which in due time reached 
Hadley. 

Now it was a long journey to Boston and back in 
those days, and the season was far advanced. More- 
over, burning-brands were expensive. The old gentle- 
man was anxious to get his goods on the market and 
could afford neither the time nor the money for an- 
other experiment, so he changed his name to fit the 
burning-brand. It is a curious thing that the branch 
of the family which adopted this abbreviated name 
has been of an entirely different brand from those 
who retained the two missing letters. Perhaps I might 
mention here that my great-grandmother was the first 
white woman born in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. 

For myself, I was born of poor but Methodist par- 
ents, August 1 6th, 1827, at Rye, Westchester County, 
New York, and was the son of a minister, who in 

5 



6 A Sailor of Fortune 

those days moved every year. Perhaps it was because 
of this that I inherited a roving disposition. 

I spent every summer of my childhood Hfe at my 
great-grandfather's farm in Saratoga County, where 
the battle of Bemis Heights was fought. At the time 
a great many Indians lived in that section of the 
State, and a large number had quartered themselves 
on my great-grandfather's domains. In fact, we saw 
more Indians than we did white folk. They grew to 
be very fond of me and used to take me off to their 
camp; and I was fond of going in their canoes. They 
made me for my special use a little birch-bark craft, 
probably five or six feet long. I soon became an adept 
in canoe paddling, and when they missed me at the 
house they would send one of the men over to the 
camp after me, and I was usually found in a canoe. 
This was my first experience in navigation. 

My early reading was " Robinson Crusoe," " Swiss 
Family Robinson," and books of that nature. It was 
natural therefore that I should acquire a love for ad- 
ventures of the deep. At school I excelled only in 
geography and history, while for other reasons which 
it is not needful here to set down I was accounted the 
worst boy in the village. Being thus " between the 
devil and the deep sea," as it were, I chose the latter, 
and made up my mind to visit strange lands. I ran 
away at the age of eleven. 

I was then at Sheffield, Massachusetts, at boarding 
school, and I got over to Hudson, New York, without 
being caught, and enlisted on a canal boat bound up 
stream. At Troy I became one of her chief towpath 
engineers, driving the horses, with a bill-of-fare of 



The Making of a Sailor 7 

salt pork and potatoes twenty-one times a week. I re- 
signed at Schenectady and came back down the river. 
But my father was preaching in New York City and 
the alarm had gone out. I was captured on my ar- 
rival in the metropolis, taken home, cleaned up, and 
endowed with a new suit of clothes. Then I ran away 
again. 

This time I shipped on a pilot boat in New York 
Harbour. The harbour was poorly charted then, and 
we used to " heave the lead," beginning at the Bat- 
tery, out over the Bar. I had a knack for learning 
this kind of thing and became an expert leadsman — 
an accomplishment very useful to me in later years. 

I made three cruises on the pilot boat before I was 
caught again, and remained at home nearly a month 
before I ran away for a third time. I now engaged in 
the towing business. I began with the old tugboat 
United States, and was assistant cook and deck hand. 
Also, I learned to steer. I eluded capture for some 
time, and after a few months joined the tug Pluto, 
the smallest towboat in the harbour and the best 
money-maker, for the reason that she stole her fuel — 
in those days cord-wood — from the schooners loaded 
with Virginia pine. Eventually I was caught again. 

I was caught repeatedly after that. Altogether I 
spent about three years in running away and being 
dragged home. I was once taken in Fulton Market, 
sleeping in a fish-wagon. I had on a suit of sailor's 
blue dungaree, and my mother was so ashamed of me 
on the boat going home that she wrapped me up in 
her shawl and put me to bed, letting it be understood 
that I was ill. 



8 A Sailor of Fortune 

My parents made up their minds now that it was 
useless to try to keep me on land. My father sought 
out a friend, Captain Francis M. French of the ship 
Cornelia, engaged in the emigrant trade between New 
York and Liverpool, and at last I was shipped offi- 
cially and went to sea. I was then between thirteen 
and fourteen years of age. 

We were eighteen days making the trip to Liver- 
pool, and most of that time I was unusually ill. It was 
one Saturday night when we entered Prince's Dock, 
famous for packet ships in those days, and on Sunday 
morning I went ashore to get my breakfast — no cook- 
ing or fires then being allowed on a ship in port. The 
first thing that attracted my attention was the ringing 
of the chimes of the old St. Nicholas church, and I sat 
down on the steps and cried like a child. It was the 
first time I was ever hom.esick, and I have never been 
in Liverpool since that I did not seek out those steps 
and sit down and recall my first ocean voyage* 

Queen Victoria, accompanied by the Prince Consort 
and her eldest two children, paid her first visit to 
Liverpool just at this time. I was very anxious to see 
her, but the streets were roped off where she was to 
pass and it was impossible to push through the crowd. 
So a shipmate of mine, a boy, Tommy, and I got up 
a sham fight and a ring was quickly formed for us, 
British style. We fought our way toward the rope, 
the crowd making room. When we reached the 
hempen barrier our war was at an end. We saw the 
Queen. 

The Cornelia was a fine ship of about eight hundred 
tons, small enough for these days of twenty-thousand- 



The Making of a Sailor 9 

ton steamers, but one of the largest up to that thne 
that had entered the port of Liverpool, and we brought 
back with us nearly one thousand Irish emigrants. A 
volume might be written upon a single passage of the 
emigrant ship of those days. The food and accommo- 
dations need not be described. In bad v/eather every- 
body was seasick. Boxes, barrels, beds, men, women, 
and children were tumbled in a promiscuous heap, 
and often we were obliged to go below, perhaps in 
the middle of the night, to straighten them out. It 
was simply hell afloat. 

Typhus fever broke out during the passage home. 
A large number died and were buried at sea, sewed 
up in pieces of old canvas, weighted with a few pounds 
of coal. Sharks followed the vessel constantly, and 
I have seen them grab a body before it was three feet 
under water. 

We arrived in New York Harbour Saturday night 
and I was permitted to go ashore from Quarantine 
next day. My father was then preaching in Brook- 
lyn, and I walked into the church just as he was 
beginning his sermon. This time I had returned hon- 
ourably, and clean. I had on a neat blue shirt, white 
duck trousers, a black silk neckerchief, and a jaunty 
sennit hat, made of braided grass, such as sailors wore 
in those days. As I walked down the aisle his eye, and 
the eyes of his listeners, most of whom I knew, fell 
upon me. It has been said that my father that day 
preached the shortest sermon on record. I had been 
gone about three months and was a genuine sailor 
at last. 



Ill 

The First Naval Experience 

I NOW remained at home for a time, and went 
to a private school in Court Street, Brooklyn, to 
study navigation. But my teacher knew less of 
the subject than I had acquired with my small prac- 
tical experience, and my hours of study being short 
I became a disturbing element in the school. After a 
few weeks my father succeeded in getting me into 
the ship Rainbow, an East Indiaman, bound for Can- 
ton, China. But one day before sailing, at the Cap- 
tain's house — his name v/as Hays — I went swimming 
in a large tank in the attic, which proved to be the 
water supply for family use, and such was the Cap- 
tain's wrath that I concluded not to go with him to 
the Orient. My father was deeply grieved at the time 
that I had lost such an excellent opportunity, but jt 
may be added that some years later when I came home 
he said to me : 

" My boy, I think you know more than I do about 
ships. Do you know that the Rainbow has never been 
heard from ? " 

The Rainbow had been lost on her homeward pas- 
sage. She had sailed in company with another tea 
and silk ship, and a race home had been arranged. 
Captain Hays had said to his rival and those standing 
around : " I'll beat you home, or I'll go to hell." The 

lO 



The First Naval Experience n 

last seen of the Rainbow was off the Cape of Good 
Hope. It is supposed she was caught aback in a squall 
and went down stern foremost. Perhaps she became 
a consort of the Flying Dutchman and is still trying 
to round the Cape. Off Good Hope we always looked 
for the Flying Dutchman in those days. 

I now resolved to join the Navy, and went down 
to No. 9 Cherry Street, the " Naval Rendezvous," 
where a Board of Officers was in session. The store- 
keeper down stairs coached me to present myself as 
an able seaman, the idea being the higher rating I got, 
the more plunder for him. I was examined physically, 
and passed, though the surgeon was a little dubious 
about my age and stature — the former being some- 
what magnified and the latter always small. Then the 
line officers questioned me about " handing," reefing 
and steering, and I boxed the compass to their entire 
satisfaction. 

I was now placed on the receiving ship North Caro- 
lina, but it was an uninteresting place, and I used to 
run away about every Saturday afternoon. I would 
say to an officer leaving the ship, " Can I carry your 
grip, sir?" and when we got to the gate the guard 
would think I was the officer's servant and let me pass. 
It was a good scheme, but it wore out at last and I 
had to devise another. One day I walked up near 
the gate with a two-foot rule and a memorandum 
book, and began measuring — " Two foot — four foot," 
etc. When the guard asked what I was doing I said, 
" Don't bother me, you will break my count." He 
thought it must be all right then, and I measured my- 
self out. I usually went home Saturday night and was 



12 A Sailor of Fortune 

regularly in the " brig " or ship's prison every Mon- 
day morning. 

I was soon transferred from the North Carolina to 
the store-ship Supply, and again to the schooner 
Onkahaye, a double-bottomed vessel, the only craft of 
her kind ever in the United States Navy. I found pro- 
motion very slow. I had become a gunner's mate, but 
this advance carried with it only a can of brickdust, 
a bottle of oil and a polishing rag, and my chief duty 
was that of brightening the brass screw caps of the 
carronades on the spar deck. I concluded to resign, 
and did so. Subsequently my father obtained a dis- 
charge for me in the regular way. I think they gave 
it to him very willingly. 

I now departed from my ordinary custom and 
sought assistance of a whaling agent in South Street. 
A few days later I was in New Bedford, Massachu- 
setts, and there was selected by the captain of the 
whale ship Junior as a foremast hand — not a green- 
horn — because I had been at sea. My physique was 
against me, but the captain decided my strength by 
placing his two hands — as broad as the hands of 
Providence — on my shoulders and trying to *' buckle " 
or bend my spine backward. I stood the test and was 
accepted. I now began one of the most remarkable 
voyages ever made by any vessel, with one of the 
ablest whalemen and best men that ever sailed the sea. 



IV 

The Beginning of a Great Voyage 

THE whale ship Junior, Captain Silas Tink- 
ham, cleared from the port of New Bedford 
on the 13th day of December, 1847, with a 
crew of twenty-two men before the mast, all green- 
horns except " Old Bill," an English man-o'-war's 
man, a Kanaka, and myself. Then there were the cap- 
tain, three mates, four boat steerers, cooper, carpen- 
ter, and a negro cook — the last named being the only 
man I ever met in all my seafaring who was born 
in Rye, New York, my own native town. 

The Junior was a little ship — about three hundred 
and seventy-eight tons register, and a trifle over a hun- 
dred feet long. Such a craft to-day could be stored as 
long boat on the deck of an ocean liner, yet she had a 
capacity when full of oil of about four thousand bar- 
rels, carried four boats and four years' rations for 
thirty-three men. Our course was shaped across the 
Atlantic down to the Cape of Good Hope, where we 
captured a " hundred-barrel " sperm whale — a rare 
prize — which gave most of us our first experience in 
whale fishing. We now entered the Indian Ocean, 
where we met our first cyclone — the memory of which 
haunts me still. 

The weather had been generally good, but it was a 
time for wind, and we were " lying-to " under a close- 

13 



14 A Sailor of Fortune 

reefed main topsail, main spencer, and foretop- 
mast staysail, and the wheel was lashed " a-lee." 
At noon all hands went to dinner, leaving the decks 
entirely deserted. I came on deck to get a pot of 
drinking water, and as I went aft I saw a strange 
movement in the surrounding waters. The sea near 
the ship was quiet, but on the horizon it was foaming, 
dancing, and bobbing in a most disturbing manner. 
The sky had a weird, strange colouring, and the light- 
ning made it a network of zigzag streaks. I watched 
it for a few seconds and then ran to the companion- 
way and called, 

" Come on deck, Captain Tinkham, I think some- 
thing dreadful is about to happen ! " 

In an instant he was there, followed by the three 
mates. All hands came piling after and were ordered 
to shorten sail. But before a movement could be made 
the storm had struck us, ropes had parted, sails had 
been blown into ribbons, and the little ship was on her 
beam ends with the water almost up to her hatch 
coamings. We were in the vortex of a cyclone. Then 
followed a most appalling time. The sea suddenly be- 
came as flat as a floor, and the spoon-drift almost 
blinding, while the rigging screeched like an ^olian 
harp of the inferno that it was. Men clung or were 
pinned fast where they stood. One of the thirty-foot 
boats was blown from her davits and in some unac- 
countable manner was impaled on the cross jack yard- 
arm. Sails were stripped from the yards as if they 
had been made of cheese cloth and the rigging aloft 
was covered with threads of cotton, which gave it an 
uncanny look. The wind whirled 'round and Vound 



Beginning of a Great Voyage 15 

the compass and the screeching aloft varied with each 
angle. The day wore on with no abatement of this 
awful war of the elements, and darkness fell as an 
added terror, with blinding electric flashes and ear- 
splitting thunder. No one of us expected to outlive 
that night. 

Finally toward morning there came a sudden lull 
and a terrific downpour of rain. To escape this we 
crept below, when suddenly it changed to hail, which 
kept up a deafening roar for several minutes; then 
followed silence — an appalling stillness that turned the 
heart sick. 

Someone at last ventured on deck and called, 
" Come quick, boys ! " and all hands crowded up to 
find the decks covered with between three and four 
inches of hailstones the size of marbles, while in the 
distance a huge cloud belching lightning and thun- 
der showed the direction our demon had taken. Then 
the sun came up, and a fair wind blew through the 
cotton-covered rigging; but we were too exhausted to 
undertake repairs and were ordered below for rest, all 
except an officer and two men, who were relieved 
every two hours. Within a few days we had a full 
new set of sails bent and our ship righted ; but another 
vessel, the Emerald, that had been our companion, 
was never heard of again. 

Perhaps this violent storm frightened the whales 
out of the Indian Ocean, for we met with no further 
success and after some months' cruising we made 
our way to Angier Point, on the island of Java, to 
recruit ship. 

It was at Angier Point that I met with another new 



1 6 A Sailor of Fortune 

experience — that of being buried alive, though in this 
case by intention and for a good purpose. 

Soon after our arrival I was seized with a very 
severe attack of the Java fever and it was not believed 
that I could pull through. Captain Tinkham had 
loaded me full of calomel; but it was no use, and I 
had my shipmates carry me on deck to look at the 
sun for the last time. A Malay merchant was on 
board, and, looking at me, said : 

** Bury him on shore and draw out fever." Then 
he told them how to do it, and I was taken ashore, and 
under a huge banyan tree buried up to my neck in 
the warm earth in a comfortable sitting position, with 
an awning over my head, and two shipmates, a Malay 
and a Dutch soldier, to look after my comfort and 
protection. The latter was necessary, for there was a 
water conduit nearby where tigers often came down 
to drink, and it was not a comfortable thought that 
one of them could walk up and bite my head off in 
case my guards got frightened or were overpowered 
by the savage beasts. Neither did I relish the idea of 
bugs and worms that might be creeping through the 
soil, but my Malay friend assured me that such was 
the poison of the fever absorbed by the soil that no 
insect would remain near me. 

Well, I stayed nearly two days in that hole, and 
the first night a tigress and two cubs did come for 
water, and there was anxiety and excitement enough 
in our camp before the snarling creatures were put 
to flight to throw me into a profuse perspiration, 
which no doubt was beneficial — at all events the na- 
tives said so, and sure enough the fever w^as all gone. 



Beginning of a Great Voyage 17 

I was removed from my grave in a very weak condi- 
tion, taken on board, and in a few days was nearly 
well. I have heard of a similar treatment recently 
adopted in our own country for various diseases, and 
I think it may be safely recommended. The earth is a 
great disinfectant and healer. 

At the end of about two weeks we left Angier Point 
and shaped our course for the New Zealand whaling 
grounds, but still with no success, and at last put into 
the little port of Mongonui for various supplies and a 
little shore liberty for the men. Nothing of note hap- 
pened here except that a cooper of the whaler Clifford 
Wayne while in swimming was suddenly assailed by 
a shark and bitten in two before we could rescue him. 
From Mongonui we cruised to the westward again, 
often lowering for whales, but with no luck. We had 
been out nearly a year now with only one capture. 
" Old Bill " said there must be a Jonah on board, and 
until he was found and made to quit the ship we 
should never catch a whale. We believed " Old Bill," 
but the question was, who was our " Jonah." It so 
happened that it became my fortune to find him. 



V 

The Tale of a Would-be Pirate 

ONE day the four boats were away chasing a 
school of whales on our weather beam, and 
five of us, including a boy named Tom Pierce 
and I, were left on board to work the vessel to wind- 
ward after the boats. Tom had some hatchets to be 
sharpened and he asked me to turn the grindstone 
for him. The stone was forward of the try works, 
where the others could not hear. As I sat on the 
fore-hatch turning the crank, Tom first made me 
swear secrecy, and then unfolded a plan to me that 
made my hair stand on end. This was nothing 
less than to seize the ship, at just such a time as 
this, compelling the others to join us — killing them 
if they refused, I continued turning the crank 
while Tom unfolded his plan in most minute detail, 
showing that it must have been a study of months. 
My effort was not to let him see that I was alarmed or 
shocked at his idea. It would be easy, he said, to tell 
the people in any port that the entire ship's crew, be- 
ing off in the boats, had been attacked by a school of 
whales and the boats destroyed before the ship could 
reach them — the crews drowned or torn to pieces by 
sharks. When I suggested that we might be becalmed 
and the boats overhaul us, he declared it would be an 
easy matter with the firearms we carried to kill every 

i8 



The Tale of a Would-be Pirate 19 

man on the boats as they approached, or if a breeze 
came up we could run the boats down and drown the 
men, a pirate crew could be organized in an Austra- 
lian port, and then we would roam the seas in search 
of prey. 

The more he talked the more I thought I should 
be obliged to use a hatchet upon this would-be buc- 
caneer, but before our discussion ended the boats re- 
turned and Tom left me, saying, " Now, Jack " (I 
was called Jack at sea), " don't forget your oath." 

Imagine my state of mind with a load upon it like 
the secret of this young villain, the son of a good 
mother, who had sent him to sea with a Bible as a 
parting gift. I could not sleep, especially when he was 
on watch, and, though eager to tell the Captain, I was 
oath bound, which in those days was a solemn thing. 
Even if I told, I knew that Tom would be put in 
double-irons, or lashed to the rigging and whipped, 
and this I did not wish to see. Finally I was completely 
unstrung and preferred being aloft, looking for whales, 
or at the wheel — anywhere away from Tom. I felt 
now that I knew who was our " Jonah," but how to 
get rid of him was the heaviest heart-burden of my 
life. 

One day the Captain resolved to return to Mon- 
gonui to recruit ship. This was good news, for I 
thought here might be a chance to get rid of Tom. 
On the night before we reached port I said to him : 

" Tom, when your watch goes on liberty to-mor- 
row you must leave the ship never to return. With 
your bundle of stuff for trading with the natives, pack 
up your duds and get away from the ship as far and 



20 A Sailor of Fortune 

as fast as you can. It is best for you that you do this 
and it is best for me, for I cannot bear this suspense 
any longer. Go, for your mother's sake, for your own 
sake, and for mine. If you don't I shall break my 
oath." 

He looked at me a moment and then said, " All 
right. Jack, I'll go." I stood an extra watch that 
night on the plea that I could not sleep in the warm 
forecastle. I did not know what Tom might attempt 
if I went to bed. At daybreak the liberty men were in 
the boats, and Tom was there with his bundle. When 
the boats went ashore again to bring off the men, 
Tom was not among them. I never saw him again. 

After two or three days searchers were sent out 
to find him, but without success. Then, a day or two 
before we sailed, I said to the Captain that it was 
better not to find him, and when he demanded my 
reasons I told him that if he would promise not to 
try to get Tom back I would tell him an amazing 
story, but not until we were ten days' sail from the 
coast of New Zealand, when there would be no chance 
of our returning to Mongonui. I told him that so 
long as we were in reach of Tom I was under an oath, 
which I considered sacred. 

It was a long time before Captain Tinkham prom- 
ised me. He coaxed and even threatened, but I would 
not give in. Finally he agreed to give up the search 
for Tom on my conditions. It was a great load off 
my mind, but I had many doubts as to how the Cap- 
tain would receive the story. I felt sure he would 
blame me severely for not coming to him at once 
with the tale. 



The Tale of a Would-be Pirate 21 

It was an anxious ten days that passed, especially 
as the Captain more than once besieged me to reveal 
my secret without further delay. I know now that he 
saw it weighing on my mind, and feared I would be 
sick before the final day. It came at last, and Cap- 
tain Tinkham took me into his cabin and I told him the 
story from beginning to end. He never spoke a word 
until I had finished ; then after a long pause he said : 

" My God ! Tom must be crazy ! What a narrow 
escape for us all ! " 

Then he chided me for not telling him sooner, as 
I knew he would; but Captain Tinkham was always 
kind and in some things he commended me, too. He 
questioned and cross-questioned me for a long time, 
then he told me to go forward and say nothing to any 
one. The men were curious to know why I had been 
in the cabin so long, but I did not tell them. I said 
they would know in due time. 

On the following Sunday morning the word was 
passed forward by the second mate that all hands were 
to go aft at two bells (one o'clock), and during the 
morning there was much speculation as to what was 
going to happen. I knew. I knew the men were go- 
ing to be told about Tom Pierce. 

That Sunday, the dinner with its tempting plum 
duff was fairly bolted, and every man was ready to 
march to the quarter-deck before the next striking of 
the bell. When it struck twice we were quickly as- 
sembled, and the Captain with his back against the 
mizzenmast said to me, " Jack, come here ! " and I 
stepped out of the line and took my place by his side. 
" Boys," he went on, " I have called you aft to hear 



22 A Sailor of Fortune 

the story of why Tom Pierce ran away/* Then, turn- 
ing to me, " Jack, tell your story, word for word as 
you told it to me, to your shipmates assembled here." 
He placed me directly in front of him, and I began 
and told all that had happened that day when they 
were away after whales and I was turning the grind- 
stone for Tom. It was a sight I shall never forget — 
those thirty-two men and officers listening to a sim- 
ple statement of a plan to murder them all and seize 
the ship — and how I had carried the secret among 
them for so many days. At the end I pleaded justifi- 
cation for this on the ground that Tom had a good 
mother and would perhaps now reform, and also that 
with Tom's desertion we might get rid of the 
" Jonah " which had brought us our bad luck and 
might have cost us our lives. I stopped then, and the 
Captain made a little speech on his own account. He 
said he blamed me for not telling him sooner, but on 
the whole I had done the ship a service, and he ended 
by saying, " Now, boys, give Jack three cheers," 
which I suppose they did, though I did not hear them, 
for the strain had been too much and I had to be 
carried from the deck. I was sick then, sure enough, 
for several days, but when I got out again I was well 
in a minute and happier than I had been for months. 



VI 

Into the Antarctic 

STILL we captured no whales, and men like me, 
whose pay was to be one barrel of oil out of 
every one hundred and eighty taken, began to 
feel that the chances of a fortune in whaling were 
poor. We went into Hobart Town, Tasmania, at last, 
with no other excitement than having fallen in with 
a frigate loaded with two hundred women passengers 
who were being transported from England to become 
wives of convicts at a Tasmanian penal colony. But at 
Hobart Town there was entertainment enough for 
six of us, for we were persuaded by a rascal, under 
promise of good pay in the cattle drogers (vessels) to 
leave the Junior — his sole purpose being to deliver 
us to the police as deserters, and when our time of 
servitude had expired to obtain the legal fee of ten 
dollars per head for returning us to our vessel. Our 
servitude in this instance lasted for thirty days, and 
the sorrow of the treadmill and rock pile was made 
heavier by the thought that we had deserted so good 
a ship and captain. Fortunately, he remained in the 
harbour, fitting for an extended cruise for the south, 
and we went back gladly enough when our time limit 
had expired. Then, good man that he was, he gave 
us a dollar apiece to go ashore and have a little real 
liberty. It all turned out well enough in the end, too, 

23 



24 A Sailor of Fortune 

for by a mere accident I fell in with a kindly old gen- 
tleman who proved to be the governor of the island, 
and to him I told the story of being sold into cap- 
tivity, with the result that the land shark was cap- 
tured, compelled to return the sixty dollars to Captain 
Tinkham, and sentenced to a year's imprisonment at 
hard labour. 

After all, we were loath to leave Hobart Town. It 
was the first white man's port we had visited since 
leaving New Bedford more than a year before, and 
it was a beautiful place, with its December midsum- 
mer and its fine harbour. 

But Captain Tinkham had heard of a new species 
of whale with which the Antarctic Ocean was said to 
be fairly alive, and when all was ready we one day 
hoisted anchor, dropped down the river Derwent, and 
pointed our prow south-poleward, toward a region 
rarely visited, and imperfectly known from the de- 
scription of such explorers as Cook (1773), Wed- 
dell (1823), Wilkes (1840), and Ross (1842). We 
had no reliable charts of those waters, knew nothing 
of the character of the navigation, and not a man on 
board, fore or aft, had been within the polar circle. 
But in those days nothing daunted the whaling skip- 
per, who steered into unknown -waters, without charts 
and with imperfect means of navigation. By frequent 
use of the lead we hoped to avoid danger from 
grounding, but we had no idea what other perils we 
were to encounter. 

The first two weeks of the cruise were uneventful. 
The wind was fair and we ran southward rapidly. 
Then presently we entered a melancholy region where 



Into the Antarctic 25 

the temperature dropped rapidly and there were 
masses of floating ice and dismal fogs. Many days 
we did not see the sun at all, and as we were subject 
to strange drifts and unknown currents it was often 
impossible to tell where we were going. As for whales, 
it is true there were plenty, but they were of a worth- 
less sort — no right whales, only a few finbacks, and 
schools of sulphur-bottoms, which whalemen know 
well enough to let alone. 

Our Captain became uneasy and did at last put two 
irons into one of the last named, an enormous fellow 
that was lying near the ship. But he cost us six hun- 
dred fathoms of line, which ran out like lightning 
from the tubs, the smoke rising from the loggerhead. 

We now entered a region of fearful cold, and gales 
that followed each other in rapid succession. In the 
meantime we were drifting, no one could tell whither, 
meeting with no whales suitable to our purpose. For 
weeks we were tossed about this dreary waste, striv- 
ing at last to retrace our course only to be carried 
among a multitude of icebergs, enormous in size 
and of threatening aspect. It was a weird world that 
we had penetrated, a part of the globe unpeopled by 
any human beings except ourselves — thirty-three iso- 
lated souls in quest of a whale that had no existence, 
in waters that had no history. It seemed more than 
probable that our little ship and its hardy crew would 
find an eternal abiding place beneath these Antarctic 
waters. We youngsters did not realise all the danger, 
but still we were an anxious crew. 

The weeks passed and there came no favouring 
wind. We began discussing the probabilities of spend- 



26 A Sailor of Fortune 

ing an Antarctic winter. There were rations enough, 
such as they were, but there was no way to place the 
vessel in a comparative degree of safety. The outlook 
was gloomy indeed, when suddenly to the joy of all 
there came a shift of wind, and with every yard of 
canvas spread, including studding sails, and with the 
ship's head pointed northward, we began our return 
voyage. 

With a lookout for open water at the masthead, 
from dawn to dusk the ship was pressed on her course, 
and never in her history was sail carried on her as it 
was on that memorable trip. We had a fortnight of 
favourable weather and had left the ice behind when 
we ran into a terrible storm — almost as severe as our 
first cyclone — but finally made our way to Lord 
Howe's Island, off the Australian coast, where we 
wooded, watered, and laid in a stock of potatoes and 
some fine young pigs. We were glad to be back from 
that gloomy sea below the circle, but within three days 
we were again under way, hunting for sperm whales, 
and within a week we heard from another whaler 
that the " bowhead," a new species of whale, had 
been discovered in the Arctic Ocean, some of them 
storing down four hundred barrels of oil. So away 
we went for the other end of the world. 



VII 

Into the Arctic 

TWO things occurred on our northward voyage 
which seem worth recording. We touched 
at the Island of Rotumah, one of the Fiji 
group, and the Hberty crew went ashore one morning, 
each with several yards of calico, some tobacco, and 
a handful of odd trinkets for trading. Judge of our 
surprise to find that the natives would not barter with 
us — a thing unknown before. When they invited us 
toward a nearby hill we went with some hesitation, 
for those were dangerous islands and cannibalism was 
an institution in the South Sea. We went, however, 
and soon discovered a large thatched hut, capable of 
holding four or five hundred people, and into this 
many persons were making their way. We entered 
with them and were escorted to the front and given 
seats on a mat. Then a man arose and said something 
which we did not understand. The audience also rose 
and began to sing. The words were unintelligible, but 
the tune we at once recognised as that of a familiar 
hymn. Then followed what was evidently a prayer, 
another hymn, and an address or sermon. By this 
time we remembered that it was the Sabbath, and 
saw we were in a house of worship. After the service 
we were taken to the chief's house and entertained, 
and next morning when the port watch went ashore 

27 



28 A Sailor of Fortune 

they had no trouble getting rid of every piece of calico 
and pound of tobacco they had. 

We wondered how this island had become Chris- 
tianised, for there were no missionaries. Many years 
after in London, at a meeting of missionaries, I learned 
the story. It seems that a long time before our 
visit, a little boy who had been badly treated on 
a British ship ran away on this island, taking his 
Bible — always the mother's parting gift in those days 
— with him. He fled to the mountains, and after the 
ship had left, came down into the village, and was 
kindly treated by the chief and admitted to his family. 
He learned the language, became a preacher of the 
Gospel and converted the island to Christianity be- 
fore a white missionary ever landed on that soil. 

At another island of the Fiji group the natives 
were so threatening that we did not dare to land; 
but at Tahiti occurred the second incident I have 
mentioned. This was no less than my first acquaint- 
ance with a queen. 

I was ashore that day, and passing along a princi- 
pal street I saw a native woman and man engaged in 
a hand to hand battle. There were spectators, but they 
made no attempt to interfere. Naturally I rushed in, 
and pushing the woman aside attended to the gentle- 
man, sailor fashion. Some of the outsiders then 
started to interrupt the amusement, but the woman 
with a word stopped them. When the affair was over 
I was astonished to learn that the woman was Queen 
Pomare and the man her consort. I was invited to the 
royal palace, and for once, at least, enjoyed the con- 
fidence of a real queen. 



Into the Arctic 29 

We headed straight northward after this, arrived 
too early to enter the passage through the Fox Is- 
lands and went up into the Okhotsk Sea, where we fas- 
tened to several whales, losing all. During one of our 
lowerings a large bull whale knocked our boat to 
pieces, and with a coloured boy, Tom Cole, each cling- 
ing to an oar, I spent four hours in the icy water. But 
a good rubbing down, a glass of old Medford rum and 
a nap put us in good shape. We presently abandoned 
that foggy, stormy sea and shaped our course for the 
Arctic Ocean. We passed through the Fox Islands 
and on through Behring's Strait, turned around, and 
came back to St. Lawrence Island, where we anchored. 
In a very few days we had nineteen hundred barrels 
of oil in the hold, a single whale stowing down three 
hundred and forty barrels of bowhead oil, and thirty- 
four hundred pounds of the finest whalebone in the 
market. We killed our first whale on the 5th of June, 
1849, ^^^ on the 15th of July the last one — taking, in 
all, eleven whales. The effects of our Jonah had dis- 
appeared at last. 

Our cargo was now soon completed and Captain 
Tinkham headed the Junior for home, after an ab- 
sence of nearly eighteen months, covering more ter- 
ritory and more remarkable territory in that time than 
any other vessel that had ever sailed the sea, having 
been beyond both the polar circles in a single voyage. 



VIII 
How the Old St. Mary's Made History 

yl FTER a fairly good passage southward we ar- 
LJL rived at Honolulu in the Hawaiian Islands, 
X jL where we found several whalemen and two 
French men-of-war. These two French men-of-war 
had attracted our notice, but at the time we did not 
understand why they were there and paid no par- 
ticular attention to them. A day or two after we 
arrived, the St, Mary's, American sloop-of-war, came 
in from China — the same old St. Mary's which has 
since become a school ship and lies at the foot of 
East Twenty-fourth Street, New York City. But the 
vessel was in active service then, though with most 
of her crew ill of an epidemic disease. As soon as 
her anchors were down the sick men were landed 
under the guns of the little fort on the beach, and I 
remember very well how we blubber-hunters cussed 
the captain of the man-of-war for putting his men on 
the sandy beach where there was no shelter, while 
only a few rods to the northward were beautiful grass 
and cocoanut trees. During the afternoon, however, a 
boat from the St. Mary's visited each whale ship and 
requested the captains to come on board. The confer- 
ence between the captain of the man-of-war and the 
whalers lasted perhaps an hour, when each returned 
to his ship and announced the fact that the two French 

30 



The St. Mary's Made History 31 

men-of-war were there for the purpose of taking 
possession of the Hawaiian Islands and that the St, 
Mary's men had been landed under the fort to keep 
the French from firing upon it. We were asked if we 
would volunteer to go on board of the St. Mary's and 
man her guns. Every man Jack volunteered. We were 
only too anxious to serve our country. 

The men from the different ships were told off in 
divisions and went on board and were taught how to 
handle her guns. They got enough men from the 
Junior and several other whalers to complete the full 
complement of the St. Mary's crew in case she went 
into action. For forty-eight hours, night and day, the 
whalers were drilling on the man-of-war's decks. 
" Old Bill," who had been in the British Navy, and 
myself, who had served a short time in the United 
States Navy, were selected among the gun captains. 
The Frenchman was evidently very much surprised 
that the St. Mary's, with more than half of her crew 
on the sick-list, yet had her decks full of active men, 
and after looking the situation over for several days 
concluded that there was wisdom in discretion. They 
left Honolulu, and never again has France attempted 
to gain possession of those islands. 

This closed my connection with the Junior. It was 
over three years before I reached home, and I had 
many adventures in that time, as we shall hear 
later on. 



The " Isle of Sacrifice " 

THE Junior was about ready to leave Hono- 
lulu, when I met one day on shore the cap- 
tain of the bark Swallow, a vessel built in 
Calcutta and owned by a lady of Hong-Kong. Find- 
ing I was a navigator, the captain offered me a position 
as mate, and though I was loath to leave the Junior, 
the fact that she was homeward bound, and the pros- 
pect of new adventures, induced me to take this step. 
In those days the native authorities at Honolulu were 
very strict about desertions from whale ships, whose 
trade they were anxious to secure. I was taken on 
board the Swallow at night by a native boat, for which 
I was to pay one dollar. When we were halfway to 
the vessel the two Kanakas who were in charge de- 
manded double fare, and I was obliged to persuade 
them with the boat's tiller to stand by their contract. 
When the captain of the Swallow heard my story he 
said, " Well, we must put you away, for those fel- 
lows will report us, sure." 

So, early the next morning I was taken into the 
lower hold. The head of a large cask was knocked out, 
I stepped in, the head was put in place, and I was in 
the dark, with only the bunghole for air. It was after 
eight on the following morning that searchers came 
on board to find me. The cabin and forecastle and the 

32 



The "Isle of Sacrifice" 33 

deck houses were ransacked. Finally they came into 
the lower hold and nosed around there, poking their 
iron prods into the dark corners. They rolled over a 
number of casks that were in the hold and finally came 
to the one I was in. I thought then that my time had 
come, and braced myself firmly for the ordeal. They 
seized the cask and tipped it over with a bang, and 
then rolled it along the ballast. Over and over I went, 
heels up and head up, until I did not know which was 
which. I braced every nerve and did not move. For 
some reason they did not test the bunghole with 
their iron prod, and presently I drew a great breath 
of relief, for my cask was still and I heard them 
ascend to the main deck. But it was not until we 
were under way that I felt safe, and it was nearly 
noon before I was released from my close quarters. 

The Swallow was bound for Sydney, New South 
Wales, and there was nothing of especial interest in 
our passage. I recall her now chiefly because of the 
manner of my enlistment and the fact of her motley 
crew, which comprised many nationalities, including 
one hundred and thirty Lascars. Also because the 
owner, Mrs. Inness — a woman well known through- 
out the East Indies in those days as the keeper of a 
large store in Hong-Kong — was herself on board. 
Furthermore, I held on the Swallow my first official 
position — that of chief mate. 

We reached Sydney at the end of thirty days, and 
as I had shipped " by the run," I left her there and 
joined the whale ship Joseph Maxwell, Captain 
Ezra T. Rowland, of Fairhaven, Massachusetts. The 
Maxwell was about the size of the Junior, and her 



34 A Sailor of Fortune 

skipper a good man. I shipped in her before the mast 
at the one hundred and fiftieth lay — that is, one bar- 
rel of oil to every one hundred and fifty taken — and 
was assigned to the captain's boat. Our first two 
weeks' cruise resulted in our not seeing a whale, and 
we put into Lord Howe's Island — my second visit to 
that spot — for potatoes. Somewhat later we touched 
at a small island in the Fiji group for water and wood 
— the latter for fuel. I do not think this island had a 
name, but my memory has recorded it as the " Isle 
of Sacrifice," and my adventure there was of a kind 
not possible anywhere in the world to-day. 

We went to this island in company with the Clif- 
ford Wayne, a vessel I had seen once before at Mon- 
gonui, and the captain of each ship with his boat's 
crew, carrying the usual bundles of calico, tobacco, 
and whale's teeth — the latter used by the natives for 
ornament — went on shore to trade. After landing, 
our crew went in one direction and the Wayne's crew 
in another, they taking the weather side of the island, 
while we kept to the leeward. No natives were in 
sight at the time. 

From their position on the weather side of the isl- 
and, the Wayne's crew discovered a squall approach- 
ing which foretold a heavy storm, and returned to the 
boats. In coming over they had stove a hole in theirs 
on a coral reef, rendering her unseaworthy in rough 
water, and they now took our new boat and pulled 
away for their vessel, leaving us to find their worth- 
less one on the shore and a terrible surf outside. It 
was as dastardly a trick as was ever played by a civi- 
lised crew of men. 



The "Isle of Sacrifice" 35 

We had discovered on the island only a few old 
women, who did not seem inclined to trade with us, 
and we now cast about for a place to camp for the 
night, knowing that our shipmates could not reach 
us through the breakers and sharp reefs. We were not 
especially afraid, for we were armed, but we were 
mad clear through and there would have been war if 
we could have reached the crew of the Clifford 
Wayne. As night came on we hauled up the dam- 
aged boat and turned it up for a shelter from the 
storm. We stood guard by turns and put in rather a 
nervous night, for there was something mysterious 
about the place, and a night attack from savages is 
a nasty thing. Once a wild pig came rooting about, 
and came near losing his life before we identified him. 

When morning came it was still blowing, but we 
made up our minds to look about a little farther and 
see what would happen. Several of the old crones 
kept watch of us and followed us about. They seemed 
kindly disposed and offered us fruit, but would not 
barter the wood, yams, pigs, and other supplies which 
we wanted. There was a small village of these women 
on the lee side of the island, and while we stood talk- 
ing to them our captain discovered a number of 
canoes from an adjoining island coming up under the 
shelter of our lee shore. This sight gave us a de- 
cided chill, as the canoes were full of men and there 
was no reason to believe they had come over in this 
gale for a good purpose. However, we stood our 
ground. 

The newcomers had a conference with the old 
women on arrival. Some of them seemed to be chiefs, 



36 A Sailor of Fortune 

and now and then they looked and pointed at us, 
which did not make us feel any more comfortable. 
Presently, from somewhere in the grove behind, a 
group of young native girls appeared. They were 
from twelve to fifteen years of age, plump and hand- 
some for their race. Their dress was nothing more 
than a piece of tapa about their loins, and their hair 
was filled with lime to indicate that they were vir- 
gins. We now noticed among the trees the fires of a 
number of Samoa ovens, while near us was a sort of 
audience plat, and we realised that some ceremony 
was about to occur — something in which we were 
likely to play the principal part. 

Still, we decided to await developments. It might 
be death to run. Certainly it would be fatal to attack 
them, for we were greatly outnumbered. Perhaps, 
after all, they meant us no harm. But I may say we 
were a solemn-looking party when we were led to the 
centre of a semicircle and seated on mats. 

A man does a lot of thinking in a very few seconds 
on such an occasion. My chief concern was as to how 
many of those fellows I could get away with, with the 
means at hand — a sheath-knife and an old smooth- 
bore gun. My shipmates were similarly armed. There 
may have been a hatchet or two in the party. We 
talked little, but we were prepared to shed blood be- 
fore going into the pot. 

The whole assemblage was now seated, and several 
old women brought up the girls, who faced the group 
calmly — it seemed to us with little interest. There 
followed some talk from two or three of the chiefs, 
at the end of which three of the girls stepped out from 



The "Isle of Sacrifice" 37 

the others, facing us, and each made a brief address 
— what about, I do not know. But we began to reahse 
now what was going to happen. We were taking part 
in a sacrificial ceremony and these were to be the 
victims. 

There was no delay. Scarcely had the last speaker 
finished, when as if by magic, almost, three men arose 
behind the girls and, quick as a flash, with a war club 
delivered each one of them a blow in the back of the 
head. As they fell they were quickly borne away into 
the bushes. We did not see what was enacted there, 
but the group about us sat perfectly still for what was 
probably only a few minutes, but seemed a very long 
time. Then there was a stir; several addresses were 
made and we were served with cooked fish, yams, 
breadfruit, bananas, and the like. Everybody seemed in 
a good humour and our spirits rose ; but there lingered 
a question as to what the final dish of this feasting 
might prove. We were soon to learn. We had put in 
about two hours in dining and ceremonies since the 
slaughter of the girls, when several men appeared 
with large baskets. These were set before the chiefs, 
and from them something was served on banana 
leaves — strips or squares of cooked food, about two 
inches long. As guests, we were served first, and 
there was no doubt as to the character of the cooked 
flesh — the final observance of the human sacrifice. 

A great deal of humour has been made by the comic 
papers out of cannibalism, but you may be assured that 
at the time when we sat as guests at the feast there 
was no humour in our little party. It was less horrible 
perhaps than it would seem now, only because we 



38 A Sailor of Fortune 

were familiar with tales of cannibalism, and did not 
set much value on the lives of these islanders. We 
were relieved, too, at not having been chosen as the 
victims, though there still lingered a possibility that 
with appetites awakened for appeasing the gods, they 
might decide to serve us for supper. 

Nothing of the kind took place. We were accorded 
the best of treatment, and they finally gave us to un- 
derstand that we should be returning to our ship. We 
went over to the damaged boat, patched it up as best 
we could, and as the gale had abated set out for our 
vessel, which we reached safely, though through a 
tremendous surf. It was many years before I was able 
to solve the mystery of why we should have been im- 
mune among that cannibal race. Then I met an old 
Wesleyan missionary who told me that we had landed 
on an island set apart for human sacrifice — that it was 
peopled exclusively by girls and their attendants; also 
that we were perfectly safe, for to have harmed us 
there would have brought down, as they believed, the 
vengeance of the gods to whom their sacrifices were 
made. 



X 

More Savages, a Few Minstrels, and 
Many Pirates 

WE touched at another South Sea island on 
that voyage, Tongataboo, where I fell in 
love v^ith a dusky little daughter of a king, 
who wanted me to remain on the island. Here was 
one of my great lost possibilities, for I might have 
succeeded to the throne and become father to a race 
of monarchs. But I was young then and the world 
seemed waiting to be conquered. To rule over a point 
of land in the South Pacific was no great matter, so 
I sailed away from wifedom, kingdom and the cares 
of state. 

It was during the cruise of the Maxwell that I made 
my first entry into theatrical life. It was in the early 
days of George Christy, and we organised a troupe 
of minstrels after the Christy pattern, with such suc- 
cess that we not only entertained ourselves but the 
crews of other vessels, and upon our return to Syd- 
ney were engaged to perform at the theatre; the town 
was placarded, and for a week we drew crowded 
houses, receiving twenty pounds per night for the 
company of fifteen — more money than any one of us 
had ever seen before to call his own. It was the first 
minstrel show ever given in Australia, and the man- 
ager was anxious to have our entire band desert. But 

39 



4o A Sailor of Fortune 

our captain had taken precautions to have the proceeds 
of the week turned over to him and the boys couldn't 
part v^ith their money. So they stayed with the Max- 
well, all but myself, who had only shipped for the 
cruise, and was paid my share when I left the vessel. 
This was late in 1849. 

I now spent several weeks in Sydney, seeing much 
and visiting many places of interest in the neighbour- 
hood. Eventually I joined the ship Oneco, of Dux- 
bury, Massachusetts, Captain Drew commanding. 
The Oneco had come from Boston, loaded down with 
gold hunters for the California mines, and her deck 
houses had been fitted up for passengers. The crew 
now occupied these luxuriously fitted quarters, ate from 
real plates and slept in rooms instead of in the fore- 
castle of common sailor life. The vessel was bound 
for Manila. I was the only sailor on her not born on 
Cape Cod. 

We ran over to the Ladrone Islands to wood and 
water ship, as well as to paint the vessel inside and out 
— the latter to save dues in the harbour of Manila. The 
Ladrones were savage islands and the harbour difficult 
to enter, but a native pilot took us in safely. No 
shore leave was allowed, a wise provision of our 
skipper, as we found later. 

A number of canoes were always hanging about the 
vessel, and on the morning we were to sail a large 
collection of them appeared, the men all armed. We 
made up our minds that we were to have trouble and 
hastily shotted our guns, loaded our pistols and sharp- 
ened our cutlasses, determined to meet any warlike 
visitors halfway. Then we began to heave the anchor, 



Savages, Minstrels and Pirates 4^ 

but by the time it was fairly clear of the ground the 
fellows opened fire on us with arrows and stones, 
which we returned with bullets, killing a great num- 
ber — I believe as many as two hundred. They came 
on for a time, yelling, and firing with bows and slings, 
but our return fire was more than they could stand, 
and they dropped back out of range, though still fol- 
lowing. I believe they depended on the native pilot, 
again on board, to wreck the vessel ; but the third mate 
and a sailor with a pistol took him up on the topgal- 
lant-forecastle and told him that if he didn't take the 
ship safely to sea he would be shot, forthwith. He 
performed this service, carried us safely outside and 
was rewarded with a few plugs of tobacco and pieces 
of calico. Then he was invited to take a swim for 
shore, which he did with the greatest possible alacrity. 

A sailor's life is strenuous at all times, and in those 
days it was almost a continuous casualty. At Manila 
I was stabbed for another man, nursed into recovery, 
only to begin my acquaintance with Chinese pirates 
on our voyage to Hong-Kong. 

We had loaded the Oneco with a small cargo of 
betel nuts, Manila cheroots, opium, and a few thou- 
sand dollars in specie, and were about two days from 
our destination when we ran into a thick fog, where we 
clewed up our topgallant sail, hauled up the main- 
sail, lowered the topsails on the cap, and jogged along, 
waiting for the fog to lift. 

We had been in the fog but two or three hours 
when a large junk suddenly loomed up on our port 
bow. Our captain, who was an old East India and 
China trader, took one look at her and said ; " My 



42 A Sailor of Fortune 

God! Here's an infernal Chinese pirate junk! Make 
all sail, quick ! " 

We did not need that order. Almost as soon as I 
can tell it we had the sails up and drawing, but not 
quick enough to escape the junk, which bore down 
under full head, her decks crowded with men, her 
grappling irons on a long pole, ready to hook into our 
chains. The Oneco, being built for the China trade, 
was armed. We carried four guns in each broadside 
and two swivels on the taffrail, with an ample supply 
of boarding pikes, muskets, pistols and cutlasses. If 
the pirate succeeded in boarding us it would mean a 
hand to hand fight, and what with making sail and 
getting ready for battle, we had not fired a gun before 
his grappling irons were in our chains. But at this 
moment we let go a broadside of our four port guns, 
which must have disabled the men in charge of the 
grappling line, for they did not succeed in making 
it fast around their bits until they had drifted about 
two hundred feet astern. We attempted to cut this 
line, but the hook was attached first by a long chain 
which we could not sever, and the angle was such that 
we could not hit it with a shot. 

We now shifted some of our guns from the star- 
board side, and our third mate, Mr. Nye, a very strong 
man, assisted by a couple of sailors, carried one of 
them to the top of the deck house where there was a 
better range, while some of our men went up into the 
mizzentop with muskets and opened fire from there. 
The pirates in their difficulties did not at first get their 
guns into action, but kept up a constant fire with their 
muskets, though with very poor aim. We also man- 



Savages, Minstrels and Pirates 43 

oeuvred our ship in a way that made it hard for them 
to get the range. At last, however, they opened with 
what was apparently a twelve-pound pivot-gun, doing 
little damage. Their chief effort was to haul up along- 
side so that they could board us, but we kept up such 
a hot fire that they failed to succeed in this plan. We 
could rake their decks with our guns, while our mus- 
kets kept up a regular fusillade. 

At the end of about three-quarters of an hour an 
accidental shot from somewhere cut the grappling 
line and we were free. But our captain's blood was up 
now, and we headed for her and gave her a broadside 
that cut away her foremast and made havoc among 
her men. We would have finished the job then and 
there, but our ammunition was low, and we were 
anxious to report to Hong-Kong. On arrival there 
we immediately notified a little English sloop-of-war, 
which sailed at once and next day fell in with the 
disabled junk, took all on board prisoners, sunk her 
and returned to anchorage. The captain of the sloop- 
of-war reported that we had killed fully half the 
pirate crew. The remainder, forty-seven in number, 
were tried for piracy and promptly hanged. We were 
congratulated as heroes in Hong-Kong. 



XI 

I Join the Anglo-Chinese Navy 

MY encounter with the Chinese pirates gave 
me a taste for such adventure, and as the 
Oneco was now loading coolies for Chili, 
I left her to enlist on a flotilla that made pirate hunt- 
ing its daily occupation. This Navy was composed 
of a number of open boats maintained largely by the 
British Government, seconded by the Chinese authori- 
ties. The boats were about forty feet long, carried 
each a small howitzer and a crew of about thirty-five 
men — mainly Europeans. The pay was good, and 
there was prospective prize money, though, as usual, 
I was attracted chiefly by the desire for adventure. I 
enlisted for three months and was assigned to boat 
Number 23, commanded by a young man, formerly 
a petty officer in the British Navy, one of the keenest 
and bravest Englishmen I ever met. Another of his 
countrymen was second in command, while twenty 
Europeans, twelve Chinamen and myself made up 
the crew. We pulled twelve oars, and when under 
canvas carried two large lugsails and could spread a 
square sail. Our shelter for the night was a heavy 
tarpaulin with side cloths. By day a light canvas awn- 
ing protected us from the burning sun. Our provisions 
consisted of salt beef and pork, hard tack and rice, 
plenty of fish and birds and such vegetables as we 
could procure. Our cook was a Chinaman with a 

44 



Join the Navy 45 

crude cooking apparatus, but he gave us two good 
meals a day. We slept by watches on the bottom 
boards of the boat and on the thwarts. 

The flotilla was made up into divisions, usually six 
boats in each. These cruised in company and at stated 
intervals the entire fleet would assemble for orders 
and drill. We had pistol practice and sword exercises, 
for the fighting was generally a hand to hand matter, 
and skill and strength of arm were of first impor- 
tance. Real fighting was never at long distance. Our 
howitzer was used only in pursuit, and just before the 
boarding party sprang on board the pirate junk. 

I should mention that a number of small junks 
were attached to our service to act as scout and picket- 
boats. These often furnished us the location of a 
pirate junk unloading or recruiting in some creek, 
but they never took part in any of the fights. These 
fights were frequent and bloody. Sometimes they re- 
sulted in the extinction of an entire pirate junk's crew, 
though generally we tried to secure as many prisoners 
as possible, for the reason that we received a higher 
premium for live captures that we did for pig-tails of 
dead pirates. Such trophies — prisoners and pig-tails 
— were turned over to our flagboats, at convenient 
periods sent to Hong-Kong, and in due time our prize 
money came back with our monthly pay. 

My boat, Number 2^^, belonged to the " lucky di- 
vision," and in the six months which I remained with 
her we engaged eleven junks, which we destroyed, 
and five with which we had running fights but lost 
them, owing chiefly to fogs. We usually attacked a 
junk with six boats, their crews numbering from one 



4^ A Sailor of Fortune 

hundred and eighty to two hundred men, so that we 
generally outnumbered our opponents. Still, not all 
could board a junk at one time. Five or six men had 
to be left in each boat as keepers — to pass up arms and 
ammunition as needed, and to prevent the pirates from 
destroying our craft with " stink-pots." Aboard the 
junk our pistols were first brought into play, and 
with cutlasses we finished the work. Such battles were 
short, but very fierce, for the Chinaman is a good 
fighter and has no fear of death. Our own Chinamen 
were always first over a junk's side, and our loss of 
them was an average of six Celestials to every Euro- 
pean. I could fill a volume with the experiences of 
that half year, but the story of our most important 
battle is a fair example of all : 

I had been promoted to the command of boat Num- 
ber 23 — the young Englishman having been severely 
wounded and sent to Hong-Kong, while the second 
in rank had resigned. Three boats of our division one 
morning came unexpectedly upon a junk moored at 
the river bank, almost hidden by trees and foliage. 
The first intimation we received was the firing of 
three ship's cannons, loaded with bullets, spikes and 
what not, and for an instant the water about us was 
white with foam. Not a man in my boat was hit, but 
the third boat in line had two men killed and four 
wounded. There was no chance of retreat. All we 
could do was to dash ahead and get under the range 
of her guns, and carry her by boarding. Before she 
could reload we were alongside, had grappled her, 
and our Chinamen were scaling her like cats. 

The odds were terribly against us, as the pirates had 



Join the Navy 47 

been prepared, while we had been surprised and had 
lost valuable men. All told there were about sixty of 
us, besides the caretakers, to do the work. We lost 
several men boarding the pirate, but we were des- 
perate and went in with our cutlasses at once, keep- 
ing our firearms in reserve. I have been in many hand 
to hand fights, both in that service and in the Argen- 
tine Navy, but I never saw worse slaughter than I 
witnessed that morning on the pirate junk. The 
pirates were like devils, but we were all good swords- 
men, and we cut them down almost as fast as we 
could get at them. In the midst of it I suddenly found 
myself cornered by three of the enemy, who were giv- 
ing me the tussle of my life with their crooked swords. 
I could do nothing but parry, and I felt that I could 
not keep this up very long. In fact, I was on the point 
of exhaustion, when a young English boy ran up be- 
hind one of my opponents, and putting a pistol to 
his head scattered his brains over the deck. The sud- 
denness of it startled the others, and an instant later 
I had cleft one of the pirates across the jaw and borne 
down upon the other with the point — thus, with Bob's 
help, finishing the three of them. 

We now had about thirty of them in a corner, and 
these we opened fire upon with our pistols and settled 
the fate of the day. When the end came, there were 
ninety dead and wounded pirates lying about the 
decks, and some twenty had jumped overboard, several 
of whom had been shot in the water by our boat- 
keepers. Our loss had been comparatively small, but 
greater than usual because of our being heavily out- 
numbered. 



4^ A Sailor of Fortune 

The junk proved a valuable prize. In her was about 
sixty thousand dollars in specie which she had cap- 
tured, while her leader was a chief to whom all pirates 
in those waters paid tribute. In fact, she was the 
heaviest armed and most dreaded craft of her kind, 
and we had taken her with the smallest number of 
boats that had captured a pirate junk since the flo- 
tilla was organised. 

It having so happened that my boat had led the 
attack in this fray, I was summoned to Hong-Kong 
to testify against the pirates, also in the prize court, 
and to make a detailed statement of the whole affair. 
This was pleasant diversion enough, though I became 
tired of telling and retelling the story, and was anx- 
ious to get back to the flotilla. When I did return 
it was as division commander, and I think none of 
my shipmates begrudged me this new rank. I chose 
Number 23 as my flagboat, and I wish I had room to 
tell of some of our battles and narrow escapes that fol- 
lowed, before our work became dull; when, with a 
good accumulation of prize money, I resigned my 
position and returned to Hong-Kong for a period of 
recreation before seeking adventure in the open sea, 
which from earliest childhood had always held for me 
the greatest fascination. 

During my many encounters with the pirates, 
strange as it may seem, I never received a wound 
that required surgical treatment, and I maintained 
perfect health though exposed to many diseases. I 
recall that half year of almost constant fighting, when 
death was always about me, as one of the pleasantest 
periods of my life. It was hard, serious work, but it 



Join the Navy 49 

was a work endorsed by all Christian nations. It was 
necessary to wipe those " yellow devils " off the face 
of the waters, and I have always felt that the humble 
part I took in the work would not be recorded against 
me in the " log book kept aloft." 



XII 

I Buy a Chinese Family and Join a 
Pirate Brig 

LOOKING about in Hong-Kong for a congenial 
household wherein to make my home for 
^ a few weeks, I fell in with a most friendly 
Chinaman — an elderly person whose family consisted 
of himself, his wife, several children, two sampans, 
and certain wooden gods of various sizes and de- 
grees of power. I acquired the whole for fifteen dol- 
lars and was supposed to own everything, including 
the gods, for a period of three months, with board 
in the bargain. The food was good, too, well sea- 
soned and palatable, though I did not always know 
just what I was eating. I gained flesh and I really 
saw something of China during those three months. 
The old man found his chief occupation in being head 
of the household and smoking opium, while his wife 
did washing for the vessels in the harbour, and ran the 
two sampans. She also acted as my foster mother and 
sometimes took me in a sampan to collect or deliver 
laundry, and I found myself endorsing the establish- 
ment among the ships of my acquaintance. Often my 
" foster sisters " took me in tow and we visited the 
neighbours or some theatre, or took delightful ram- 
bles into the country, climbing the terraced hillsides 
to get a view of the splendid harbour. I really en- 

50 



Join a Pirate Brig 51 

joyed being " Jack in clover " for the time, and ac- 
quired a great fondness for the Chinese life as I saw 
it. As a sailor I had let my hair grow long, and I 
now braided into it a pigtail, put on the national cos- 
tume, and with tan and a little tint applied by my 
merry " relations " I passed well enough for a native 
to have a good deal of sport and to perpetrate a num- 
ber of jokes, one of which came near landing me in 
a Chinese prison, if not on the execution block. 

I think this discouraged me a little in any inclina- 
tion I may have had to make a change of race, for I 
found myself longing to be afloat again, an easy mat- 
ter in 1 85 1, when everybody was rushing to Cali- 
fornia and sailors were scarce and well paid. A little 
brig lying in the harbour attracted my attention. She 
was a tidy craft of about three hundred tons, full- 
rigged, with lofty raking spars — in fact, my ideal of 
a vessel. One day I went aboard and asked the cap- 
tain if he wanted to ship any men. When I mentioned 
having been in the Arctics he plied me with questions 
in regard to bartering furs and walrus tusks, and con- 
cerning the ice. He said he was in general trade, in- 
cluding opium, beche-de-mer, sandalwood, sharks' 
fins, pearl shells, furs — in fact was ready to do any- 
thing for gain, a statement which I did not fully grasp 
at the time. At all events, after a series of questions 
he shipped me as supercargo, also ice-pilot in event of 
our going into the Arctic regions. The next after- 
noon found me, bag and baggage, aboard the brig 
Swallow, my second vessel of that name. 

I now took a look over the vessel, and while all 
trading craft in those days were armed, it seemed to 



52 A Sailor of Fortune 

me that she carried an unusual number of guns for 
her size. She appeared in fact a regular little fighter 
— trim as a yacht, neat as a man-o'-war. The crew 
consisted of about forty men of motley nationality, 
but by no means of desperate appearance, while the 
captain, a Baltimore man, was a keen, sharp fellow — 
a fine sailor when he knew his water, though of rather 
forbidding aspect. The first mate was a mild, but de- 
termined-looking man ; the second mate was a bit of a 
bully, and these, with the steward and myself, made 
up the after guard, living in the cabin. It was to be a 
part of my duty to inventory and care for the cargo, 
which consisted of tobacco, pipes, small looking- 
glasses, beads, gaudy clothing, calico, rum, and odds 
and ends such as all vessels in those days carried for 
native barter. 

After settling my belongings, I went ashore and 
bade good-bye to my foster family, embracing most 
of them, and salaaming to the gods of high and low 
degree. Then the brig was ready to weigh anchor and 
I sailed away. 

As soon as we were well off shore a man was sent 
to each masthead with orders to report everything in 
sight. This seemed a little curious, as we were not 
looking for whales. I was also impressed with the 
fact that we were heading toward Manila, when I had 
understood that we were bound for the Northward 
Islands. Still it was not my affair, and questions were 
useless. During the second day gun crews were 
selected, and new recruits carefully drilled with those 
who had already made voyages in the Swallow. Then 
the guns were carefully loaded and shotted and the 



Join a Pirate Brig 53 

small arms kept ready for action. Drilling went on 
daily and the little brig seemed as much of a war 
machine as if she had been flying a cruiser's pennant, 
with all hands in uniform. 

On the fourth day I noticed that our Captain 
seemed restless and frequently hailed the masthead 
lookouts to keep a sharp watch, and several times went 
aloft himself. That night we shortened sail and made 
very little headway. I had no watch to stand and 
turned in at ten, to be awakened about four by hear- 
ing the watch making all sail. I went on deck to find 
every stitch of canvas set, the masthead lookouts dou- 
bled, the Captain pacing to and fro on the starboard 
side of the deck. I felt that something was going to 
happen before the day ended — ^what, I could not tell. 

With dawn, the Captain himself went up on the 
main topsail-yard, which made five pairs of eyes scan- 
ning the horizon. He had been there hardly an hour 
when one of the men on the foreroyal-yard sang out 
" Sail, ho ! " and instantly the Captain answered, 
"Where away?" 

" Two points on the starboard bow," was the re- 
ply, and immediately the brig's course was shifted two 
points, all hands were called, studding sails were set 
in a jiffy and with a good breeze and a smooth sea 
the little brig went reeling off ten knots to leeward. 

I had a very clear idea now of the character of our 
vessel. She was a trader, right enough, but, like many 
another vessel in those days, she could be a pirate 
as well, when the prize was large enough and the 
chance of punishment small. I hardly know what 
were my feelings when I realised that I, who but a 



54 A Sailor of Fortune 

short time before had become distinguished as an 
exterminator of pirates, had now myself become one 
of a pirate crew. My chief reflection was that there 
was nothing I could do except look on and take no 
part in the action. I therefore stood still and watched 
the approaching vessel. She was presently made out 
to be a junk, evidently bound from Manila to Hong- 
Kong, and when our Captain was satisfied that she 
was the one he wanted, all hands were ordered to 
quarters and I knew we should smell gunpowder be- 
fore long. 

The Captain came down from aloft to direct our 
course and to see that the guns were properly cleared 
and manned. We were not to have things all our own 
way, it seemed, for the junk did not seek to escape, but 
prepared for combat. We came down on her with 
a rush and as we passed under her stern gave her a 
broadside, which was responded to by two guns, evi- 
dently of larger calibre than ours, but poorly managed. 
We now luffed under her lee and gave her a charge 
of grape, and when we came up and crossed her bow 
we gave her another heavy broadside. Great care was 
taken not to injure her hull near the water line — the 
fire of our gunners being directed especially at the 
upper works in order to cripple, without sinking, the 
vessel. 

The poor Chinamen were able to fire their guns 
but three times, but kept up a lively fusillade of small 
arms for as much as an hour, during which the 
Swallozv sailed around the junk, raking her fore and 
aft. Then two boats with armed crews were sent to 
board her, and met with slight resistance. I shall al- 



Join a Pirate Brig 55 

ways be glad that I was not compelled to make one 
of that party. 

It was not long after our men had gone aboard 
that they began lowering boxes of specie, packages 
of opium, and cases of cigars into our boats. Three 
hours later the junk was set on fire and within an hour 
her magazine exploded, and not a trace of her was to 
be seen. Not a single soul had lived to tell the tale. 

It was after the goods had been stored below that 
the Captain came to me and said : " I suppose this is 
new work to you, but you will see no more of it. I 
had an old score to settle with that junk. Now it's 
paid. Say nothing to anybody and forget all about it." 
I obeyed the Captain so far as not to mention the 
affair, but to forget it was another matter. The 
crew, however, seemed to regard it as a mere incident. 
It was scarcely referred to in the cabin, and the con- 
versation of the men forward was chiefly of the pros- 
pects of trade among the Pacific islands. Well, well, 
the old days were not as these ! 



XIII 

I Winter in the Arctics 

i4FTER its one piratical venture the Swallow 
I \ cruised about the Pacific, calHng on my old 
JL Jl friends the Fijians, where we did consider- 
able trading and had one of the encounters with sav- 
ages so common to those days, when the natives 
thought nothing of losing a hundred or two men in 
an effort to capture a vessel. Sometimes they suc- 
ceeded, too, though I never happened to be on one of 
those unfortunate ships. 

It was not till the latter part of May, 1851, that we 
at last entered Bering Sea and established our head- 
quarters and began trading with the Esquimaux, 
some of whom I had met two years before. These 
were profuse in their greetings, and I informed them 
that we wanted furs and ivory brought to the ships 
without delay, as we meant to leave before there was 
any danger of being frozen in. We showed them our 
merchandise, and natives were sent hither and thither 
to spread the news, for no such goods had been of- 
fered them before. When the trade slackened we went 
across to the mainland and continued trading, re- 
turning at last to our St. Lawrence anchorage. Few 
whalers were about that year, and these were avoided. 
We feared the Russian cruisers might hear of our 
visit and turn us out, as we were really trespassing 

56 



Winter in the Arctics 57 

on their preserves. In August I tried to get the Cap- 
tain to work southward as I feared we might get 
nipped by the ice and be obliged to remain all winter 
in that desolate place. But some furs had been prom- 
ised from inland and he would not listen. When he 
did, it was too late. We were struck by a succession 
of heavy easterly gales, and September found our way 
barred — our vessel doomed to an Arctic winter. 

When it became a frozen fact that we were shut 
in, our Captain, from the brave man and reckless 
pirate he had shown himself at sea, sank almost to 
the level of an arrant coward. He was facing a dan- 
ger he had never met. 

No appeal seemed to arouse him from his depres- 
sion, and at length he summoned me and declared that 
as I was the only one of them who had had Arctic 
experience, and had been engaged as ice-pilot, it was 
for me to do what I could to save the brig. I assured 
him I would do what was possible, if all hands would 
aid me, and he promptly called everyone aft and told 
them to follow my advice and obey my orders. I was 
twenty-four years old at the time, and I felt that I 
was shouldering a big responsibility. 

The first thing we did was to place the vessel in a 
position best to resist the action of the ice; the next, 
to send down the spars so that she would be less top- 
heavy, and the third, to land most of our provisions, 
so that in event of the brig being crushed we should 
have an abundance of food. I persuaded some of the 
natives to make their home on the vessel, so that we 
might have the benefit of their advice, also their as- 
sistance, if needed. I made no haste with our prepara- 



58 A Sailor of Fortune 

tions, for I wanted to keep the men employed as long 
as possible, and what with setting the ship to rights, 
gathering wood from an old wrecked whaler, hunting 
for polar bears and fishing, I kept the crew busy and 
cheerful. 

After we were snugly housed for the winter, it was 
necessary to keep the men interested and amused, and 
I organised a glee club of that pirate crew and we 
sang all sorts of music, including hymns, which I 
hope did their souls some good in the last account. 
Certainly they needed grace. 

We also had theatricals, and I remember some of 
the performers were better in their parts than actors 
I have seen ashore. The men forward enjoyed them- 
selves remarkably well, I believe, considering that 
they were ice-bound buccaneers, but the Captain re- 
mained a pitiful object and no amount of encourage- 
ment would cheer him. He attended all our entertain- 
ments, but he was dazed and exercised no authority 
whatever. Like the vessel, he was " frozen up " and 
we feared he might lose his reason, especially after 
the sun disappeared and the fierce Arctic night came 
down upon us. 

Dark, cold months are long and it seems to me that 
it would take volumes to record the story of that win- 
ter. It went by at last, and when daylight returned 
we began to bestir ourselves for the time of release. 
The preparations for home-sailing awakened a slight 
interest in the Captain, who paid some attention to 
what was going on, though he never issued an order, 
leaving all in my charge. 

It was late in May, 1852, when a gale started the 



Winter in the Arctics 59 

ice out of the harbour, or rather roadstead, and gave 
us the first hope that our imprisonment was at an end. 
Following a large ice field we made our first move 
toward freedom and the south. I was standing aft, 
giving orders, as the red-rusted anchor came to the 
bow, and at sight of it the boys broke into a wild 
cheer. Something in it all aroused the Captain, who 
suddenly shouted, " Give her the topgallant sails, boys, 
and let's get out of this hell as soon as we can ! " 

From that moment he was in command of his ves- 
sel, and I was simply ice-pilot and supercargo as 
before. All his old bravery and character returned, 
and I could never understand his condition during 
our imprisonment in the ice. Coming out, we had a 
narrow escape from a Russian cruiser, but with our 
superior speed left her far behind. We now headed 
straight for the Sandwich Islands, where I left the 
brig Swallow, against the wishes of the captain and 
crew, I may say, and our long association made me 
feel not unkindly toward them, pirates though they 
were. Still I had seen enough of adventure in such a 
vessel. I received several hundred dollars as my wages 
and share in the furs and walrus tusks. The prize 
from the captured junk I did not share. 



XIV 

By a Long Passage I Reach My 
Native Land 

A T Honolulu I shipped in a little English schooner, 
/ \ the Twilight, and made a direct passage back 
X .m. to Hong-Kong, stopping nowhere. I now be- 
gan to have yearnings for home. I had seen most of 
the world, had had adventure of almost every sort, and 
no word from my kindred for four years. I was glad 
to get to Hong-Kong as a starting point. The Wil- 
liam Henry Harheck, Captain Shinn, was in port, and, 
owing to the scarcity of sailors, offered me fifty dol- 
lars a month in gold to ship with him — the highest 
price I ever was paid for sailing before the mast. We 
sailed for Liverpool some weeks later and arrived 
without accident, though I had a narrow escape 
crossing the Indian Ocean, when a squall struck us 
and I was knocked from the topsail-yard into the belly 
of a studding sail, where I out with my knife and 
cut two slits in the canvas, and putting my arms 
through clung there, only to be reprimanded by the 
Captain upon reaching the deck for damaging the 
sail. We also came near piling up on the end of the 
Cape of Good Hope on that voyage, for Captain 
Shinn was an erratic sailor and kept too close in-shore. 
About two o'clock of the morning we rounded, a man 
on the foretopsail-yard sang out, " White water 

60 



Reach My Native Land 6i 

ahead ! " and with the helm jammed down hard the 
ship came up on the port tack, everything slatting in 
the wind — the white breakers all along our lee beam. 
Five minutes more would have seen us all in eternity. 

At Liverpool I met an old mate named Canfield, 
who had abandoned the sea to become the American 
Samson, or strong man, at the old Polytechnic Thea- 
tre. I went with him every night to the show, assisted 
the property man and finally entered the pantomime, 
taking the part of a fisherman with a stuffed fish, this 
being my second dramatic experience. Eventually I 
surrendered the stuffed fish to play the part of a clown 
and burlesque Samson's performance. From Liver- 
pool we went over to Dublin, where we played a suc- 
cessful two weeks, then returned to Liverpool, where 
I closed my histrionic career. 

The ship Henry Clay — the famous packet ship of 
that time — came into port in command of Captain 
Francis M. French, with whom I had made my first 
ocean voyage, in the Cornelia, and I resolved to re- 
turn with him to my native land. She was crowded 
with emigrants and so far as I could see there had 
been little improvement in the years since my first 
experience. We had a great many deaths, as before, 
during the voyage, but we arrived in New York Har- 
bour in due time. From Quarantine we came directly 
to the dock — there being no Castle Garden or Ellis 
Island in those days — and I set foot on American 
soil once more after an absence of five years and eight 
months. 

I knew nothing as to the situation of my people — 
didn't even know where they lived. We had landed 



62 A Sailor of Fortune 

at Pier 9, North River, and about ten in the morning 
I came up Rector Street to Broadway, where I stooped 
and put my hand on the ground to be sure, after all 
my years of absence and adventure, that I was really 
on my native soil. I never pass there now that I do 
not pay tribute to that spot. 

New York was a small city then. The lower part of 
Broadway was still residential and every house in 
Bowling Green a mansion. But there had been 
changes in my absence, and I strolled up Broadway 
staring at the signs. When I reached the corner of 
Ann Street, I remembered that Bangs and Mervin, 
the booksellers, were located there, and would know 
where my parents lived. So I climbed the stairs and 
after some difficulty was permitted to see Mr. Lemuel 
Bangs. When he learned who I was he looked at me 
and said : " Well, my boy, where did you come from ? 
Your poor parents' hearts are almost broken. They 
have about given you up as dead." 

I told him briefly of my travels and he informed 
me that my grandfather lived in Yorkville, now East 
Eighty-sixth Street, and my father in Newburgh. I 
said, " Mr. Bangs, you will have to let me have some 
money to get to grandfather's." He replied, " I sup- 
pose you are like other sailors. You have earned your 
money hard and thrown it away easy." That rather 
nettled me and I answered, " I have not been paid off 
yet from the Henry Clay; but if you are afraid to 
trust me with a dollar, will you please cash this draft," 
and I pulled out a bill of exchange for eight hundred 
dollars and laid it before him. 

He gave me a silver dollar then, and told me to 



Reach My Native Land 63 

go to " Mat " Gooderson's in Park Row, where the 
Yorkville stage started. The stage had just arrived 
when I reached Mat's and I mounted the driver's box. 
When we got to Yorkville he pointed out the house 
where my grandfather lived, and when I climbed the 
steps I saw his name on the door. An Irish servant 
girl answered my knock and after some delay my 
aunt appeared, but did not recognise me. I explained 
that I had just returned from sea and had a message 
for Mr. Sillick (my grandfather) ; whereupon she at 
once asked me if I had met her nephew anywhere 
during my travels. I replied that I had — that he 
would be home soon; also that I had seen him in 
Liverpool, ready to take the first ship. My grand- 
mother, meantime, had been listening over the banis- 
ters in the hall, and now came down. The moment 
she set eyes on me, she recognised me, for my face 
was the counterpart of my mother's. 

I was tired that night and went to bed early. Mean- 
time, without telling me, they had telegraphed my 
father, who merely told my mother that he had busi- 
ness in the city and came down to Yorkville, arriving 
about midnight. In the morning I awoke early to find 
a stranger in my bed, but when I lit a match to see 
who it was, who should it be but my own father. 

We spent that morning in cashing my draft and 
putting me into some respectable garments for life 
ashore. In the afternoon we went by rail to Fishkill 
and crossed over the river to Newburgh, it being then 
about dusk. My mother seeing me in the dim hall 
with my father mistook me for a visitor and greeted 
me as " Brother " Van Name of Albany, to whom I 



64 A Sailor of Fortune 

bore considerable resemblance. Then she hurried away 
to get the supper, and I did not see her again until we 
sat down to the table. Even then she did not notice 
me, until grace was said, when turning suddenly she 
looked at me steadily for an instant and then jumped 
up and threw her arms about my neck — and you will 
have to guess the rest, for I can't tell it. 



XV 

I Enter the Argentine Navy and Win 
a Command 

BUT the shore had little charmi for me. Even my 
native land and my home could not hold me 
when, about six weeks after my return, I had 
an opportunity to make a voyage to Havana, a part 
of the world I had not seen. I made several of these 
short trips, during which nothing of special impor- 
tance occurred, beyond the fact that I was wounded 
by some Spanish soldiers who mistook me for a 
drunken sailor and were trying to compel me to board 
the wrong vessel. I was with the bark Parodi at this 
time, originally built for a slaver — a very swift vessel. 
(We made a passage from New York to Havana in 
four days and eighteen hours. 

But now came one of the important episodes of 
my life. It was late in 1853, I think, when I became 
second mate of the ship Margaret Eliza, Captain 
Adams, of New York. She was a frigate-built vessel 
— with her sister, the Parana, pierced for guns, though 
the portholes were sheathed over — the intention of 
the owners being to sell these ships to the Argentine 
Republic, then in the midst of one of her many 
revolutions. 

We arrived at Buenos Ayres laden with a valuable 
cargo, largely consisting of flour. The revolutionists 
controlled the harbour and the blockade was on. We 

65 



66 A Sailor of Fortune 

were not allowed to land any merchandise, so we came 
to anchor and the captain went ashore, leaving the 
first mate, a curious old Englishman, and myself, in 
charge of the vessel. The fleets were fighting in our 
immediate vicinity and now and then the bullets 
dropped around us, occasionally hitting the Margaret 
Eliza, though without damage. Still, it made me rest- 
less, and I was anxious to get into the midst of things. 

One Saturday I heard that a challenge had passed 
between the Government Navy and the Revolution- 
ists, and that a set engagement was going to take 
place across the La Plata River; whereupon I asked 
Commodore Coe, an American who commanded the 
Revolutiona-ry Navy, if he would let me go in the 
flagship, El Correo, a little English-built steamer — 
the only steamer in the fleet, except an American 
wooden vessel named the Eutaw. The balance of the 
fleet was composed of brigs and schooners, armed 
with all sorts of cannons, carronades — anything that 
would fire a shot — for the most part gathered from 
merchant ships. It was a nondescript navy and that 
of the Government was of a similar sort. 

The Commodore said that I could go, but that it 
was a risky business, for the fighting would be hard 
and at close range. When I told him my Anglo- 
Chinese experience he made no further objection. We 
sailed the same afternoon and on Sunday met the 
enemy. 

I was now to witness one of the hardest fought bat- 
tles I have ever seen. Notwithstanding the fleets were 
of so poor a sort, there was as much fighting spirit as 
was ever displayed in a naval combat. It was a hand 



Win a Command 67 

to hand conflict on all sides, and in one hour after 
the flagship went into the fight nine out of eleven 
of her oflicers were killed or lying mortally wounded 
on the deck. When the first officer was stricken down 
I volunteered to take his place and did the best I could 
to fill it. When the fight was over we had captured 
seven prizes, though with a heavy loss of life on both 
sides. At the close of the engagement Commodore 
Coe said to me: 

"Mr. Osbon, we want you for the Argentine Navy. 
If you will remain with me, you can take your choice 
of any one of the prizes captured to-day." 

This offer was tempting. I accepted, and picked out 
a beautiful schooner named the Veinte-cinco de Mayo 
(the Twenty-fifth of May) in honour of some anni- 
versary. I immediately went on board my vessel with 
the rank of Commander, having been appointed by 
Commodore Coe on the quarter-deck of the flagship. 

I found my vessel a veritable slaughterhouse. 
Nearly half of her crew were dead. The remainder 
were entirely willing to enlist under our flag — such 
being the customary spirit in those countries, I com- 
pleted my crew from vessels that had suffered less 
and set about putting my command in order. Her 
mainboom was shot away and her rigging badly cut 
up, but her masts had been untouched by our fire, and 
it did not take me long to put all in shipshape, after 
which we sailed over to our anchorage off Buenos 
Ayres. 

I felt very proud of my commission and command. 
The Veinte-cinco de Mayo was the fastest sailer in 
the fleet and I was put at the head of the blockading 



68 A Sailor of Fortune 

line, just off the enemy's fort at the mouth of the 
little river La Boca. Every day there was excitement, 
with boats trying to run the blockade, but our first 
incident of real importance happened when one day a 
deserter from the shore came off and told me that in 
the evening there would be a fandango not far from 
the fort, during which the latter would be as good as 
deserted for the entertainment. 

Relying on the man's statement, about eight o'clock 
in the evening I took my gig and six men and went 
ashore to see what could be done. We crept up the 
beach, and, sure enough, found the fort entirely de- 
serted with the exception of one man doing sentry 
duty and another who was ill. We captured the sen- 
tinel without difficulty, tied and gagged him, and 
immediately went to work to destroy all the small 
arms in the place by breaking them across the breeches 
of the guns. The latter we spiked, and threw them 
off their carriages over the parapet. We now broke 
open the magazine door and getting some kegs of 
powder laid a train to it, after which we removed 
the sick man and the sentinel to a place of safety, set 
fire to our train and made for the boat, pulling rapidly 
away to escape the shock of the exploding magazine. 

We never found why that train failed in its mis- 
sion. Perhaps there was a break somewhere. Pos- 
sibly the soldier, or even the sick man, in some man- 
ner managed to destroy its continuity. If so, it was 
a brave deed. 

We reached the ship all right, but when the soldiers 
returned from the fandango there was the deuce to 
pay on shore. I never learned the particulars, but a 



Win a Command 69 

few days afterward Commodore Coe sent for me, and 
when I went on board the flagship he said: 

"Mr. Osbon, what do you consider your value?" 

" Well, Commodore," I said, " I don't exactly know 
what you mean, but I hold myself at a pretty good 
price." 

" Well, now," he said, " how much do you think 
you're worth ? " 

I replied, " I don't know." I couldn't see what he 
was driving at, and was a little annoyed that he should 
ask such a question. He picked up a Buenos Ayres 
paper and showed me an advertisement offering a re- 
ward of six thousand dollars for my head. Then I un- 
derstood, and we figured my value by the pound. 

A few days later we went into action again — the 
enemy having refitted and sent in another challenge. 
It seems a sort of play war when I think of it now, 
but the fighting was real enough. The engagement 
was at close quarters again, and my opponent was a 
Frenchman who had sworn to blow up his ship rather 
than surrender. I may say here that the vessels on 
both sides were officered and manned by men of every 
nation — sailors of fortune, inspired by the spirit of 
adventure. 

I made a special effort to get grappling irons 
aboard the Frenchman, and succeeded. Then after a 
dash we reached his decks. The fellow had two small 
guns placed aft, commanding the deck, and as we 
reached it they were fired, killing between fifty and 
sixty of my men at the one discharge, just missing me 
by a hair. I now ran aft to have it out with the 
Frenchman, who had a rapier and was ready for me. 



70 A Sailor of Fortune 

We had it hot for a few minutes and I received a 
severe wound in the hand, the scar of which I still 
carry. But I was a good swordsman, too, and pres- 
ently he rushed toward the taffrail and stooping down 
picked up a string. The next I knew I was over the 
bow of the brig in the water. He had fired the 
magazine. 

Knowing his threat I must instinctively have run 
forward when he stooped, and was thrown overboard 
by the concussion. No damage was done forward, 
and the vessel did not sink. The fighting ceased with 
the explosion, and a sailor threw me a coil of rope 
and I climbed back on board. The magazine was 
small, I think, for the deck aft had only been 
lifted and shattered, and there was a hole in the ves- 
sel's side just above the water line. The Frenchman 
was nowhere to be seen. Standing just above the dis- 
charge, he must have been blown overboard and 
drowned. 

I ordered the vessel cast loose and put on the other 
tack, which brought the hole well above the water 
line, and in this position we presently repaired the 
damage by nailing some canvas and boards over it, 
so there was no danger of our sinking. My hand and 
face were covered with blood from my wound, but I 
put some tobacco on the gash, bound it tightly, and in 
the excitement forgot it altogether. 

The engagement once more came to an end with 
victory on our side. We captured four prizes that 
day — some our enemy's best vessels. In the two fights 
the Government Navy had been much reduced in 
power as well as numerical strength. 



XVI 

An International Complication and the 
End of Revolution 

WE came back to Buenos Ayres and anchored, 
and I took up my old position on the 
blockade. At this time there was a strong 
pressure being brought to bear by foreign representa- 
tives to have the blockade raised for a few hours, as 
a large number of vessels were waiting at Monte- 
video to come up with their cargoes. The United 
States was represented by the sloop-of-war James- 
tozvn, since transferred to the Marine Hospital Serv- 
ice. The rights of England were maintained by the 
auxiliary steam sloop-of-war Centaur. 

After a good deal of parleying it was agreed that 
the blockade should be raised on a given day, from 
sunrise until noon. Ample time was allowed to send 
word to Montevideo, and a number of vessels came 
up and availed themselves of the privilege. Among 
them was an English bark, laden with flour. She had 
started late and when she was within three or four 
miles of the blockade line the wind died and she came 
up, drifting slowly. As the time was nearly up, I 
sent an officer from my ship to inform the English 
captain that the blockade would be on at noon, sharp, 
and to impress upon him that no vessel would be al- 
lowed to cross the imaginary line after eight bells 

71 



72 A Sailor of Fortune 

struck. Also, that if he attempted to cross we would 
take him as a prize. 

The Englishman saw his country's flag flying on 
the Centaur and was inclined to turn up his nose at 
our " mosquito fleet." He came drifting up, and 
when eight bells struck, true to promise, I sent two 
armed boats' crews aboard his vessel, declared her a 
prize, anchored her, and, hauling down the English 
flat, hoisted that of the Argentine Revolution. 

Well, I've seen a good many Englishmen get wild, 
but that was the wildest Britisher it has ever been my 
fortune to meet. He immediately went on board the 
Centaur, stated his case — a case apparent to every- 
body in the harbour — and before long the Centaur sent 
a boat to me, ordering me to withdraw my prize crew 
from the bark, under penalty of being sunk. I said 
to the bearer of this message : " You go back and tell 
your commanding oflicer that my prize crew will re- 
main on board, and that I'll take mighty good care 
he doesn't sink me." 

As soon as the oflicer left my ship's side I gave 
orders to get under way. At this time the Centaur 
was cleaning her boilers and refitting her wheels (for 
she was a paddle steamer), and, so far as propelling 
power was concerned, would have to rely on her can- 
vas. Knowing this, I commenced sailing back and 
forth across her stern, my guns shotted and ready 
to sweep her decks in case she fired on us with mus- 
ketry. She couldn't bring her big guns to bear, for I 
kept between the angles of danger. 

The impudence of our saucy little Veinte-cinco de 
Mayo cruising back and forth infuriated the captain 



An International Complication 73 

of the Centaur. He came aft on the quarter-deck and 
demanded what we meant by taking up that position, 
declaring that he would blow us out of the water if 
we remained there. 

" Don't shoot, Captain," I said pleasantly. " We 
won't harm you as long as you don't shoot at us. If 
you do, we'll have to sink you." 

Then he used some language which I cannot re- 
peat here, and when he was through I went in a little 
closer and said to him: 

" Captain, you were a party to an agreement that 
the blockade should go on at twelve o'clock, to-day, 
and that no vessel should cross the line after eight 
bells struck. I warned the captain of that bark not 
to attempt to cross after that time, and told him I 
would put a prize crew aboard of him if he did. What 
I have done, any country will uphold me in doing." 

"And what are you doing over here?" he de- 
manded. 

" Well, Captain," I replied, " you sent word you 
were going to sink us and I came over to see about 
it. I find your boilers unfit for duty and there is no 
wind for a heavy vessel like yours. You can't bring 
your big guns to bear, and if you fire on us with 
muskets I'll rake your decks fore and aft, unship your 
rudder and tear your paddle-boxes out of you. You 
are at our mercy and I'm going to keep you so." 

In the meantime. Commodore Coe had seen what 
was going on and now came over in his gig. He or- 
dered me back to my anchorage and went on board 
the Centaur, but he had not been there long before I 
was signalled to come aboard also. I obeyed and stated 



74 A Sailor of Fortune 

my case in full, with the result that all hands agreed 
I was in the right. The captain of the Centaur was 
begging of Commodore Coe to let the bark in, when I 
suggested that it might be compromised by allowing 
the bark to contribute from her cargo of flour twenty 
barrels to the flagship and ten to each other ship in 
the squadron. This opened a way out and the cap- 
tain of the bark was sent for. He agreed to the bar- 
gain and our boats went alongside for the supply of 
flour so badly needed, and so costly at that time. 

It was a few days later that Commodore Coe sent 
for me to come on board the flagship. He said, " Com- 
mander, I want your resignation. Return to the 
Veinfe-cinco de Mayo, get your belongings and re- 
sume your duties on your own vessel " — meaning the 
Margaret Eliza, still lying in blockade. " At ten to- 
night I will be alongside the Margaret Eliza and will 
explain to you." 

I returned to the Veinte-cinco de Mayo, called the 
men aft, told them that I had seen enough of the 
Argentine service and was going back to my ship. I 
thanked them for their loyalty to me, bade them good- 
bye, and resumed my duties on the Margaret Eliza, 
where they were somewhat surprised to see me, but 
seemed glad to welcome me back. The old English 
mate said, " Well, I never expected to see you again. 
How in the world anybody can like to fight, I don't 
know." 

About nine all hands turned in except myself, and 
at ten, according to promise. Commodore Coe came 
alongside and was presently on board. 

" Mr. Osbon," he said, " you may be surprised to 



An International Complication 75 

know why I demanded your resignation. I will tell 
you. It is because to-night, like you, I am no longer 
of the Argentine Navy. I have here in the boat a 
quarter of a million dollars in gold. I have tempor- 
arily deposited the same amount on board the James- 
town. I am going to England — you are going to New 
York. I desire that you will deliver this money to my 
wife, on arrival." 

Commodore Coe had sold out the Argentine Navy 
for half a million dollars, one-half of which went with 
him to London, while the other half I brought to New 
York and delivered to his wife. I got nothing but 
glory. The revolution was over. Peace was estab- 
lished and the two navies became as one. Commodore 
Coe was a professional revolutionist. I was simply a 
sailor of fortune, fighting for the joy of adventure. 



XVII 

I Command the Louisa Kilham, and Find 
Adventure on the Coast of Ireland 

RETURNING to New York, I joined the bark 
Louisa Kilham J and in her made several voy- 
k- ages to Kingston, Jamaica, thence to London, 
eventually becoming her captain. On one trip, after 
discharging cargo we went to Newcastle, England, to 
load gas coal for New York, and the agent, anxious 
to secure a larger commission, against my protest 
loaded the vessel far too deep. We went " north 
about " — that is, up the North Sea, past the Orkney 
Islands — to shorten the passage, it being the latter 
part of November when we sailed. 

On entering the Atlantic Ocean we were met by a 
succession of fierce gales and it was impossible to 
work the ship to the westward. For days we battled 
with the storm. Finally the ship sprung a leak, our 
sail were blown away and we had a most terrible time. 
The water gained on us very fast, and the men's hands 
were covered with running sores from their constant 
work at the pumps. It seemed impossible to save the 
ship. 

Finally the crew refused duty. It was just about 
noon and I was attempting to get our position from 
the sun as it appeared from time to time from beneath 

76 



Adventure on Coast of Ireland 77 

the flying clouds. The mate came over to where I 
was and said, 

" Captain Osbon, the men are utterly discouraged 
and refuse to pump any longer." 

I asked him to tell them to wait until I had worked 
up the ship's position. "When that was done, I would 
ask them to come aft in a body. My intention was to 
plead with them once more to stick to the pumps. If 
they failed in this, our hope was gone, and I would 
request them to kneel in a last prayer. 

On sending for them, the crew came into the cabin, 
and I told them that where there was life there was 
hope, and begged them to go to the pumps again. 
They gave me a sorrowful but decided " No." Then 
I had an inspiration. 

" Well, boys," I said, " let's ask God to help us." 
And taking up a Bible that always lay on the cabin 
table, I added, " I will open at random, and read the 
first verse that my eye falls upon." 

Sailors in those days had great respect for the Bible. 
The men stood in perfect silence as I picked up the 
volume. I opened it entirely by chance, and my eye 
fell on the tenth verse of the forty-first chapter of 
Isaiah. I read aloud as follows: 

" Fear thou not ; for I am with thee ; be not dismayed ; 
for I am thy God ; I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will 
uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." 

I read no more, and stood and looked at the men 
for a moment, when one old sailor said, " Boys, let's 
go back to the pumps. That's a message from God to 



78 A Sailor of Fortune 

us, and He never lied. I believe he will fulfil this 
promise." 

They did go back and it was not many hours until 
the wind shifted and went down, the sea moderated, 
and on the 23d of December, 1856, we entered the 
harbour of Queenstown and came to anchor after hav- 
ing been buffeted about on the coast of Ireland for 
twenty-seven days, pumping the Western Ocean 
through the ship. 

I immediately employed a gang of 'longshoremen 
to come off and man the pumps and sent my men to the 
forecastle, where they slept undisturbed until next 
morning. 

Then the underwriter's surveyors came aboard 
and the ship was ordered to the Royal Victoria 
Dockyard at Passage West, which lies about mid- 
way between Queenstown and Cork. There she re- 
ceived orders to discharge her cargo, go into dry 
dock and strip. The main and mizzenmasts were 
sprung and had to be taken out, and we remained at 
Passage West over four months. 

An amusing incident happened while our repairs 
were being completed. In the time that had passed 
between our arrival and St. Patrick's Day I had made 
many good friends and had received very handsome 
treatment. When the great day arrived, therefore, I 
was determined to show my respect for the country 
as well as my appreciation of the extraordinary hos- 
pitality, and I ordered made for me a gorgeous Irish 
flag, and at sunrise had the ship gaily dressed, while 
from the main royal masthead the banner and the 
harp of Erin tailed out on the breeze. 



Adventure on Coast of Ireland 79 

The sight gave a vast joy to the townspeople, who 
arrived in delegations to congratulate me on my flag 
display and to contribute certain brands of the " old 
stuff " — a barrel of which was guaranteed not to con- 
tain a single headache. 

But there is a fly in every ointment. Along about 
ten o'clock in the morning a twelve-oared cutter from 
the British guardship pulled alongside the dock, a 
middy with half a dozen blue-jackets landed, and to my 
surprise came aboard. There were about a dozen or 
more townspeople around me when the diminutive 
representative of the Queen approached me and in a 
funny, pompous voice asked, " Who is the master of 
this ship ? " 

" I am that person," I acknowledged, vastly im- 
pressed by his manner. " To what am I indebted for 
this formal visit ? " 

Pointing to the green flag above us he said : " You 
will haul that down instantly, sir, or I will order my 
men to do it for you ! " 

I suppose I ought to have been very much fright- 
ened at this fierce command. Possibly I was. I know 
I was a good deal amused. 

"Well, what's the matter with the flag?" I asked. 
" Are you aware that this is an American ship and 
that you have no right on these decks without my per- 
mission? Take it easy, sonny, and tell me what's 
wrong with the flag." 

" Well," he snapped, " that flag has no crown over 
the harp, and my orders are to have it hauled down. 
Do you understand?" 

" I think I gather the idea," I admitted. " I've 



8o A Sailor of Fortune 

heard better English than yours, but you mean well 
enough." 

I now called one of my men and had the flag low- 
ered. As it reached the deck I said to the middy, 
*' There, little man, the flag's down. Now run along 
and learn politeness." 

As soon as he was gone I had a couple of my men 
make from yellow cloth two of the smallest crowns 
ever seen over a harp — the harp being fully three feet 
long, while the crowns were less than the same num- 
ber of inches. These were sewed, one on each side of 
the offending flag, which, within an hour after it had 
been lowered, again went to the masthead amid the 
cheers of a throng of shore folk who had gathered to 
see what I was going to do, and who now crowded on 
board to join in a Patrick's Pot of celebration. 

It was about one o'clock when a man-o'-war's boat 
was reported coming up the river, heading for the 
docks. The news spread like wildfire, and the peo- 
ple came rushing from their dinners to see how the 
Yankee skipper was going to act. This time a young 
lieutenant headed the boat's crew. As they reached 
the gangway, I leaned over the side, and was 
hailed. 

" Good-day, sir, are you the master of the ship ? 
If so, I would like a word with you." 

I replied in the affirmative and the officer tripped up 
the gangway. We exchanged cap courtesies, and he 
said, 

" My commanding officer sent a message this morn- 
ing to inform you that you cannot fly the Irish flag in 
port, and that it must be hauled down. I have no de- 



Adventure on Coast of Ireland 8i 

sire to do anything unpleasant, but I must obey 
orders." 

" But," I replied, " the middy who came said that 
the objection was that no crown was over the harp, 
and this fault I have remedied." 

The gentlemanly lieutenant gazed aloft and shifted 
his position, but he was not able to distinguish the 
emblem that was in dispute. Then he asked permis- 
sion to call one of his men aboard, but the sailor's 
eyesight was no better. In fact no one could distin- 
guish the little crowns at such an elevation. 

I now ordered one of my men to haul down the ban- 
ner for a second time and spread it upon the deck — ■ 
the great Irish harp with the funny little crown above. 
The lieutenant stared at it a minute; then he said: 

" My dear fellow, that crown is all out of propor- 
tion to the harp. You could not distinguish it five feet 
away — much less at the masthead." 

" But the crown is there," I insisted. " Of course 
we have no naval book of instruction on how to build 
flags, and I may have made the crown on it a little 
out of proportion; but it's there, according to orders. 
Hoist the flag again, boys ! " 

The poor lieutenant looked a bit puzzled, and after 
thinking a minute said, " Good-day, Captain, I'll re- 
turn to the ship and make my report." 

I offered to share a Patrick's Pot with him, but he 
said he must hasten back, and left the vessel. As the 
crowd saw his boat leave our side they set up a wild 
cheering, and many Patrick Pots went around that 
afternoon, in sight of the old banner of Erin. 

A few days later an invitation came from the com- 



82 A Sailor of Fortune" 

manding officer of the guardship to dine with him on 
board the vessel. I suspected some sort of a trap to 
catch me, but nevertheless went and met a jolly old 
captain, who greeted me most cordially, and intro- 
duced me to a choice lot of jovial fellows. We had a 
grand time, and I was asked to tell the story of the 
crownless and crowned flag, and I think everybody 
enjoyed the incident. When a few weeks later we left 
Ireland, the whole " blooming " town bade us God- 
speed, and waved us a parting. The dock was a cloud 
of handkerchiefs, while from windows, sheets, table- 
cloths, petticoats, anything that could be seen, went 
streaming on the wind. 



XVIII 

I Abandon Sailing Vessels and Encounter 
Dangers of a New Sort 

I HARDLY need to mention a number of small 
sailing vessels in which I sailed, or of which I 
was in command during the middle fifties. Of 
some of them I do not even remember the names. I 
recall that I brought one schooner of about four hun- 
dred tons from Kingston, Jamaica, to New York, 
with only one man besides myself, the others having 
fallen ill of yellow fever two days after we left port. 

But steam was now beginning to be the thing. The 
Collins line, between New York and Liverpool, had 
been established and Commodore Vanderbilt was 
ready to begin opposition. I decided to give up sail- 
ing for steam and looked about for a berth. Going 
aboard the Northern Light, I explained my errand to 
Captain Tinklepaugh, whom I knew. 

" Why, Captain," said he, " what under the sun 
do you want to leave a good thing for ? You will have 
to begin at the foot of the ladder in a steamer. I'd 
like to have you, but the only post open on this vessel 
is that of quartermaster. I want a quartermaster." 

My reply was, " Captain, you've got a quartermas- 
ter, right here." 

I was willing to accept this inferior position to get 
a knowledge of steam sailing, and the ways of steam 

83 



84 A Sailor of Fortune 

sailors. My sole duties were to steer the vessel (taking 
my trick at the wheel with three other quartermasters), 
to attend to the signals, to clean the brass work in the 
pilot house, and, when in port, to stand watch at one 
of the gangways. It was quite a come-down from 
being master of a ship, but my reasons for accepting 
the berth were sound, as events proved. This was in 

1857- 

My first voyage in the Northern Light was across 
the Atlantic, and it was also her first to Southampton, 
Havre, and Bremen. 

On my return to New York I was offered position 
as fourth mate in the steamship Moses Taylor — Cap- 
tain John McGowan — engaged in the trade between 
New York and Aspinwall — now Colon — in connection 
v/ith the Panama Railway. Captain McGowan proved 
a lifelong friend and was really my father in steam 
shipping. Under his command I rose steadily to the 
position of chief officer. One of my voyages in the 
Moses Taylor still presents itself as a vivid memory. 

One morning about two o'clock a quartermaster 
came to where I stood near the pilot house and said, 
very quietly, 

" Mr. Osbon, the ship is on fire." 

"Where is it?" I asked. 

" In the lamp room, forward." 

The lamp room was on the steerage deck, where 
were quartered between seven hundred and eight hun- 
dred returning California miners. 

The quartermaster had already informed the chief 
engineer, who had set the pumps going. I now or- 
dered the vessel put before the wind so the fire would 



Dangers of a New Sort 85 

not blow through her, ran aft and told Captain Mc- 
Gowan, so that he might take charge of the deck. 
There was no noise made — no alarm of any sort; but 
when we reached the hold we were unable to unlock 
the lamp room door. This necessitated the use of an 
axe, and the noise, with the volume of smoke that 
poured out, aroused the sleeping passengers. In a 
moment they were panic-stricken, jumping out of 
their berths and blocking the gangways. 

Before going below, I had hastily put on two re- 
volvers, for those were desperate days, and with a 
quantity of specie and gold bars aboard and a pas- 
senger list like ours there was no telling what might 
happen in case of a stampede. I now saw that some- 
thing must be done instantly to avert a panic, which 
would certainly interfere with our work and might 
mean destruction to the ship. I drew my revolvers, 
sprang into the passageway between the berths and 
levelled them at the men before me. 

" Gentlemen," I said, " the first man who attempts 
to get to those gangway ladders will be shot. There 
is no danger. We can handle this fire if you will give 
us a chance; but I will kill the first man that makes a 
move." 

There was some wordy protest at this and a good 
deal of grumbling. They were a pretty hard lot and 
all armed. They could have made mince-meat of me, 
but I would have scored with a few of them, first. I 
suppose they realised this, for no one attempted to 
make the break. 

Meantime the crew had got the hose into the lamp 
room, and within two minutes the fire was out. I in- 



86 A Sailor of Fortune 

formed the passengers of this fact and ordered them 
to remain in their berths until the apparatus was re- 
moved and the slop and dirt cleared away. They 
grumbled again and there were some threats, but they 
had quieted down by daybreak. 

On the morning that we were to arrive in New 
York the captain called me aft where all the passen- 
gers were gathered. Among them was a big rough 
fellow who had been a sort of leader during the 
voyage, and one of the most savage of those who had 
wanted to pass me on the night of the fire. He had a 
bag in his hand now, and as I came up to them he 
said: 

" See here, Cap, we made a lot o' damn fools of our- 
selves the other night, an' you done just the right 
thing. We want to show you that we don't hold no 
hard feelings. Here ! " and he shoved the bag into 
my hands. 

It was a short speech and to the point. The bag 
contained five hundred and sixty dollars in gold. 

I continued in the steam trade about two years, and 
besides the Northern Light and Moses Taylor, held 
positions on the St. Louis, Illinois, and on the Gaute- 
r/iala — Captain J. M. Dow — a ship that made the first 
voyage around the Horn from New York to Panama 
without touching at any port for coal. We went 
through the Straits of Magellan, and my notes of this 
passage were used for several years by other steamers 
that went that route. We reached Panama in fifty- 
two days from New York — a notable trip. 

On the Guatemala, also, we had a fire, more alarm- 
ing though less dramatic than the one already men- 



Dangers of a New Sort 87 

tioned. The ship was loaded with nothing but coal — 
much of it in the between decks, stowed in gunny 
bags. The third assistant engineer went down one 
night with a petticoat-lamp and in some manner set 
fire to the bagging. 

Immediately the gunny cloth was in flames and he 
came out of the hold half suffocated. It was my watch 
below at the time, but I was wakened by the tramping 
on deck and hastily dressing came up to find the smoke 
pouring out of the forehatch in dense volumes. It 
was almost impossible to go down there, and the boats 
were provisioned and swung clear, ready to leave the 
ship. We were then about four hundred miles off the 
coast of Brazil. 

Yet we did fight that fire, going down in relays, 
each for a few minutes, and coming to the deck for 
fresh air. It was two o'clock when we began, and by 
eleven next morning we had it extinguished. There 
was no riot or panic — we had no passengers — but it 
was a thankful lot of men who realised that escape. 
Speaking of fires, I am reminded of an alarm that 
was serious enough for a moment, but was not without 
humour too. 

It was on board the Northern Light, whose boiler 
fronts were painted red; a passenger looking down 
through the boiler hatch saw this flame-like colour 
amid a cloud of steam, and shouted, " Fire ! " Imme- 
diately the whole vessel was in an uproar and a dan- 
gerous panic was imminent. I am afraid I used some 
pretty violent marine language in explaining that it 
was a false alarm. But the climax came when I saw 
a minister of the gospel on the rail trying to lower 



88 A Sailor of Fortune 

the bow of one of the ship's boats. I ran to him and 
ordered him to come down on deck. He paid no at- 
tention and I seized his coat tail to drag him down by 
force. Perhaps it was an old coat, for the seams parted 
and a second later I had the ministerial tail in my 
hands. He came down then, and he was mad. He was 
also a spectacle to look upon. He started to call an 
indignation meeting, but most of the passengers had 
recovered from their fright by this time and were 
inclined to be merry at the reverend gentleman's ex- 
pense. He went raging to the captain, who summoned 
me to appear. I came, still carrying the coat tail in 
my hand. 

'' Mr. Osbon," he said, " what are your orders in 
case of a false alarm of fire." 

" My orders," I said, " are to stop it by any means 
necessary. I may knock a man down, throttle him, or 
split him wide open." 

The captain turned to the irate minister. 

" Those are Mr. Osbon's orders," he said. " You 
are fortunate that it was only your coat that was split 
wide open, and not you." 

I remained on the Gautemala until one day Captain 
Dow and I were crossing a hatch, when the cover 
tipped and precipitated us both into the lower hold. 
The captain was unhurt, but I unshipped my kneecap. 
In spite of the surgeon's prophecy that I would lose 
my leg, I remained in my berth but a few days and 
finished the voyage, and subsequently two more, on 
crutches. Finally I w^as ordered north on leave of ab- 
sence with pay. I soon dispensed with the crutches, 
but for a long time carried a cane. Then an offer 



Danger of a New Sort 89 

was made me to take a small schooner to Brazil — a 
guar da cost a, or revenue cutter. I accepted, and re- 
turning as far as St. Thomas was requested by the 
American Consul to take charge of the ship Thomas 
Wales, whose master had died of yellow fever. I 
brought her safely to New York after a passage of 
fourteen daySo This was in 1858 and closed my career 
in the merchant marine. 

I now entered upon a period of different, though no 
less active, service. The Civil War was brewing. The 
air was full of secession, and the time was coming 
when there would be opportunities for all men who 
had smelled powder and had a knowledge of the sea. 
I was to have a part in that time, as we shall see, 
though not before some rather interesting and, I may 
say, preparatory, experience in other fields. 



XIX 

I Make a Venture into the Lecture Field 
and Embark in Newspaper Work 

THE course of a man's life is usually altered 
by trifles — or at least what seem to be such 
— and it was through the merest accident 
that I now found myself following a walk of life 
which in my wildest dreams I had never even con- 
templated — that of a public lecturer. It came about 
in this wise: 

A lecture course was in progress at Yorkville — now 
East 86th Street, as before mentioned. The Rev. 
Henry Ward Beecher was to be the speaker on a cer- 
tain night, which proved so stormy that, in those days 
of poor transportation, the prospect of a journey from 
Brooklyn was enough to discourage the stoutest heart. 
At all events, Mr. Beecher did not appear, and some- 
body in the audience (and in spite of the storm a 
pretty good one had gathered) proposed that Captain 
Osbon spin a yarn. To please the audience, and to 
earn the promised stipend, I ascended the platform 
for the first time in my life. 

I must have succeeded, for the next day the young 
men of the village (as it was then) suggested that I 
give a lecture in Wakeman Hall. The boys promised 
to lend a helping hand — the post office sold tickets, 
and when I entered the hall it was packed. The only 

90 



Into the Lecture Field 91 

face I missed was that of my own father. I had given 
him and my mother tickets, but they did not wish to 
come, and see me fail. 

Still my father could not resist. I had scarcely com- 
menced when I saw his cloak, and his face above it. 
He slipped into the hall and sat down behind the 
stove. 

Now, I had prepared my lecture with care, and in 
manuscript form. Imagine my feeling when I got on 
the platform and felt in my pockets for it and found 
it missing. It was a trying moment, but I don't think 
anybody noticed my difficulty. I went ahead, just as 
I had done a few evenings before, only on a heavier 
scale. I do not think I shall be boasting if I say that 
the audience was spellbound — ^first with curiosity, 
then with the story of my travels. I was full of 
all that I had seen, and I told it in a way that 
perhaps made some of them think they had seen it, 
too. 

But I kept my eye on my father. In fact I talked 
at my father. At last the old gentleman got up, left 
his seat behind the stove and came up farther front. 
The nearer he got, the more I warmed to my subject, 
and when I finished I think everybody was satisfied. 
/ certainly was, for the doorkeeper turned over the 
proceeds, which were between sixty and seventy dol- 
lars, and with this tied up in a handkerchief I went 
home to receive amazed congratulations from my par- 
ents, especially my father, who had never received so 
much for one of his excellent sermons. 

" My boy," he said, " where did you learn to talk 
like that?" Then he counted the money over and 



92 A Sailor of Fortune 

over. I believe he thought he was dreaming and 
would soon wake up. 

I put in three months lecturing after that. I was 
my own booking and billing agent, and in some in- 
stances my own treasurer up to the moment of going 
to the platform. I painted my own posters in water 
colours, and put them up at night so as to preserve 
my dignity as the chief attraction. I appeared in 
churches and lyceums, and told of missionaries, can- 
nibals, Arctic exploration and piracy, according to my 
audience. I had a varied experience that winter; but 
I cleared eight hundred dollars in the three months, 
and had a good deal of enjoyment besides. 

While on my lecture tour I was frequently asked 
by country editors to sit down in the office and write 
something about my entertainment. I was glad to do 
this, and little by little acquired a taste for seeing my 
work in public print. When the New York Confer- 
ence met in New York in May I attended its regular 
sessions as I had been accustomed to do in boyhood, 
and there met an old schoolmate who was reporting 
the Conference for the Commercial Advertiser, then 
edited by Francis Hall. My friend, being suddenly 
taken ill and knowing that I was familiar with Con- 
ference proceedings, asked me to finish his copy for 
that session, instructing me how to turn it in to the 
paper. Mr. Hall complimented me on my afternoon's 
work and directed me to continue through the Con- 
ference, at the end of which he paid me a liberal sum 
— for those days. 

I now surrendered all other ambitions for newspa- 
per work. I liked it and I found it easy. For a time 



Into the Lecture Field 93 

I wrote for most of the New York papers, combining 
marine and theological subjects in a manner which 
the editors must have found satisfactory. 

It was about this time that the New York World 
was in the process of being founded. Nathan D. 
Bangs, son of Lemuel Bangs, was treasurer of the 
company, and as the paper was to be a Methodist 
organ, published with clean sheets and clean reading, 
I decided that this was my opportunity. I therefore 
applied for the position of marine reporter, and was 
engaged, becoming, I believe, the first reporter em- 
ployed by the New York World. 

My work, however, was not confined to marine re- 
porting. Money was a scarce article at the World 
office in those days and each man had to do a num- 
ber of things. I remember as my first important as- 
signment, the arrival in New York, on June i6th, 
i860, of the first official Japanese delegation sent to 
the United States to observe our progress and to study 
our methods. This delegation had its headquarters at 
the Metropolitan Hotel. A splendid reception was 
given them, and a great parade marched in their 
honour. That marked the beginning of Japanese 
progress, though no one then believed the nation 
would ever make any real use of American ideas. Our 
chief idea was to treat them so well that they would 
let us trade freely in their ports and would buy our 
goods. Little we thought that within fifty years they 
would equal us in progress and excel the world in 
warfare, though, even then, those of us who were near 
them any length of time could not help observing how 
studious and observant they were. Every moment, 



94 A Sailor of Fortune 

when not otherwise employed, they were studying 
English books and dictionaries, poring over drawings 
and plans, and with a patience and a harmony among 
themselves truly marvellous to us. That is the whole 
secret of Japanese success. 

I remember that the chief feature to the general 
public of the Japanese delegation was a little juggler 
called " Tommy," the smallest man in the party, and 
the youngest. He had a charming way with him and 
used to keep paper toys in the air with a fan. The 
New York ladies were all in love with " Little 
Tommy," and the Mikado's relatives dropped into 
comparative insignificance. I have heard that he be- 
came too popular, and the question, soon after he re- 
turned to Japan, " Where is Little Tommy now ? " 
still remains unanswered. 

It was a great thing in those days for a newspaper 
man to get a " beat," and my first big achievement of 
this kind was a report and description of the Stevens 
Bomb-proof Floating Battery, then building in Hobo- 
ken. The Herald had spent a good deal of energy and 
money trying to get inside the excavation made in 
the Hoboken hillside — a sort of dry dock in which 
Commodore Stevens had built this piece of floating 
armament. Mr. Croly, city editor of the World, told 
me if I could get the eagerly sought description it 
would be worth twenty dollars to me. That was a 
large sum in those days, but I cared more for the 
glory. 

One morning I went over there to reconnoitre. I 
found that the stories of watchmen, guns, etc., had 
been exaggerated, and presently discovered a hole in 



Into the Lecture Field 95 

the fence, through which I crawled, taking such risk 
of being shot as seemed necessary to the work in hand. 
Fairly inside the excavation, I found no ladder by 
which I could get into the vessel, but there were open 
rivet holes, and sharpening some sticks I put these 
through as I climbed and presently was inside, pacing 
off the dimensions, and estimating the depth. I came 
out unobserved, went to the machine shop and saw 
parts of her engine. With my knowledge of steam- 
ships, I constructed the battery in my mind with fair 
accuracy, then went to the office and asked permission 
to go aboard, but was peremptorily refused and or- 
dered off the premises. Next morning Commodore 
Stevens read a description of his vessel, which created 
a profound sensation among naval men as well as 
newspaper editors, and everybody wanted to know 
who had been smart enough to get to the windward 
of the Commodore. Frederick Hudson, then manag- 
ing editor of the Herald, and one of the keenest ob- 
servers and ablest newspapermen I have ever known, 
was particularly anxious to know who did the Stevens 
Battery article, and upon learning the facts sent for 
me, and subsequently employed me, though that is a 
later matter and the beginning of a longer story. 



XX 

I Meet the Prince of Wales, and Enjoy 
His Friendship 

IT was in October, i860, while I was still on the 
World, that the Prince of Wales, under the 
guidance of the Duke of Newcastle, made his 
visit to this country. He arrived on the nth at 
the Battery, and his reception was an extraordinary 
affair. 

The Harriet Lane, a revenue cutter commanded by 
Captain John Faunce, had been turned over to the 
Prince and his suite by President Buchanan in person, 
for his special use while in our waters. She was a 
craft of great beauty, well adapted to royal service 
and functions, and became really the floating head- 
quarters of the Prince. He had used her in his jour- 
ney from Washington to Richmond, Baltimore, and 
Philadelphia, and on the morning of October nth 
she met the royal visitors at South Amboy and con- 
veyed them to the Battery, where they were welcomed 
by about the most enthusiastic crowd that this or any 
other nation ever saw. 

The royal party had engaged a suite of fifteen rooms 
at the Fifth Avenue Hotel — the corner suite on the 
second floor, fronting Fifth Avenue and Twenty-third 
Street — and the reception parade up Broadway was 
the most imposing affair New York had known up 

96 



Meet the Prince of Wales 97 

to that time. Every flag and piece of bunting on Man- 
hattan Island is said to have been unfurled that day. 
Every balcony was a mass of ladies, with big hoop- 
skirts which made them look like inverted balloons 
jammed together. Every piece of coping and cornice 
was fringed with heads of men and boys, who clung 
there for hours waiting for the procession to pass. 
The street below was a mass of people, and when the 
cortege did come it was almost impossible for it to 
make its way along. One of the papers said that a 
tide of quicksilver could not have slipped through 
that crowd. 

The parade was late leaving the Battery, and it was 
after dark before it reached the Fifth Avenue Hotel, 
but nobody begrudged the time. The spectators were 
glad that the procession had to move slowly so they 
could get a good long look at the Prince. He rode 
in a barouche, bought especially for the occasion by 
liveryman Van Raust at the " vast expenditure of one 
thousand dollars " and drawn by six black horses. 
He was a boy of only nineteen then, fair and slender, 
and the women went simply mad when they looked 
down on his pretty young face. When he reached 
the Fifth Avenue Hotel it was almost impossible to 
steer him through the tossing billows of crinoline. 
Women pulled and jammed and crowded to get a 
closer view, and struggled to get near enough to 
touch his royal person. One large lady who had 
worked her way to the front seized him by the arm as 
he passed. 

"Be you the Prince?" she demanded. "Be you 
the Prince?" 



98 A Sailor of Fortune 

" I am, Madam," he answered and dashed franti- 
cally up a convenient stair. 

The big woman turned and faced the crowd, wild 
with happiness. 

" I seen him an* I touched him," she cried joyously. 

If she is not still alive, she probably died happy 
because of that experience. A little boy who was held 
up for view called out, 

" Why, Pa, he's only a man ! " and that expressed 
a good deal of the general idea that the Prince of 
Wales was something more than just a handsome, 
good-natured, generous boy — one of the best young 
fellows in the world. 

Before he came to New York, when they asked him 
what he would like, he said, 

" I would like a torchlight procession, a ball, and 
an unobserved seat in Mr. Beecher's church on Sun- 
day evening." 

He got the procession on arrival. The ball came 
off at the Academy of Music, which still stands on 
the corner of Fourteenth Street and Irving Place. The 
New York idea of royal splendour in those days was 
to have plenty of crimson velvet. The Fourteenth 
Street entrance and passageway was walled with this 
goods, and wherever on the floor of the Academy the 
royal foot was like to step, crimson velvet carpet had 
been laid. On the stage there was a white tent with 
a crimson velvet carpet, and with a crimson velvet 
dais in the centre where the Prince could sit and 
view the crowd. Forty crimson-covered pedestals were 
scattered about the place and on these were iron vases 
of flowers. The crimson idea was carried out a good 



Meet the Prince of Wales 99 

deal in the dresses too, and probably there were never 
so many diamonds together in New York before. 
Well, we did the best we could with such money and 
taste as we had in those days, and the ball, with the 
supper that followed, cost what was then considered 
the enormous sum of forty thousand dollars. I re- 
member that on the Prince's table at supper there was 
a statuette of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert at 
one end, and a representation of a railroad train and 
locomotive crossing a suspension bridge on the New 
York Central at the other. I don't know just what 
was meant by this combination, but it seemed to mean 
something at the time and everybody thought it was 
all right. I believe some of the papers did find fault 
with the committee on arrangements — mostly alder- 
men, I think — and tried to make out that the parade 
and ball had been failures. But this verdict was un- 
popular, even with the Prince, who, as stated, was the 
best of good fellows and pleased at everything. At 
all events, the Japanese reception and entertainment 
had been outdone, and it was a busy time for every- 
body in New York, especially for the newspaper men. 

As I have said, I was marine reporter on the World 
then, though other assignments often came my way. 

One of our best descriptive writers had been dele- 
gated to travel about with the Prince, but perhaps he 
described too much, for frequently his copy didn't 
get to the office in time, and the other papers were 
" beating " us daily. One morning the managing edi- 
tor sent for me and said, 

" Osbon, we want you to take the Prince of Wales 
in hand and stay by him while he is in this country. 

tor a 



loo A Sailor of Fortune 

You are prompt and we shall rely upon you. Use the 
telegraph and don't let us be beaten again." 

I did not need a second order, and if we were 
beaten again I never heard of it. I don't think I was 
ever very much at describing costumes and floral 
decorations, but I knew what was going on and how 
to get my copy to the office in time. Eventually I 
met the Prince in person and became his friend. This 
is how it happened : 

We were on board the Harriet Lane, which was al- 
ways at hand during his stay, and a number of visitors 
were present, including guests, reporters, and Mr. 
Archibald, our British Consul, whom I knew very well 
indeed. In those days I wore a very long beard — one 
that would seem to have attracted even the eye of 
royalty — for the Prince singled me out and inquired 
of Mr. Archibald who was the gentleman with the 
enormous growth of whiskers. Mr. Archibald told 
him and asked if he would like to have the World 
reporter presented. His reply was favourable, and I 
was formally presented to England's present king. 
Beardless boy as he was, I think I suspected that he 
wanted to get the secret of my hair tonic. At all events 
we became good friends from the start. Every day he 
used to single me out and give me some of his royal 
cigars, and we smoked and talked together. I was 
with him daily up to the time of his departure, he 
always having a pleasant word and usually a good 
many questions concerning the people about us. 

I went with the Prince to West Point on the Har- 
riet Lane, October 15, and remained with him until 
his return to his native land. When we parted he 



Meet the Prince of Wales loi 

shook hands as with an old friend and cordially in- 
vited me to come and see him whenever I was on the 
other side of the water. I had seen him once before 
as a child with his mother, on my first visit to Liver- 
pool in the Cornelia, when, it will be remembered, I 
fought my way to the ropes, and I was to see him 
more than once, later. He always seemed to me just 
what a prince should be — a beautiful child, a generous, 
noble boy, a perfect English gentleman. 

It was not until 1869 that I saw him again. I was 
then in Paris, and the Prince of Wales was there at- 
tending the races. He was a man of the world by this 
time, but the same unpretentious good fellow I had 
known as a boy. I was passing down the street with 
Rear Admiral Gregory's son and two or three other 
young Americans, when we came to the Jockey Club. 
I said, 

" The Prince of Wales is in there — Pm going in 
to see his royal highness." 

Somebody said, '* Dollars to doughnuts you don't." 
I took out my card and went up to the attendant 
at the door and said, 

" I should like to see the Prince of Wales." 
He looked me^over and referred my card to some 
higher flunkey, and in time it reached an official who 
came out and asked what business I had with the 
Prince. I replied that I was with him during his visit 
to the United States, and that when we parted he in- 
vited me to call if I came across the water. I think 
the guard was a little dubious about my story ; but he 
took my card and presently returned and ushered me 
into the royal presence. My long whiskers had been 



I02 A Sailor of Fortune 

replaced by a Napoleonic goatee and moustache, but 
he remembered me in a moment, got up from his 
chair, met me with a cordial handshake, asked me to 
be seated, and pushed the carafe my way. Then he 
said: 

** Well, how's Captain John Faunce?" Faunce, as 
will be remembered, commanded the Harriet Lane and 
was always a great favourite of his. 

We chatted fully half an hour, and when I left he 
renewed his invitation to visit him in London. 

I may say here that I availed myself of the Prince's 
invitation more than once in after years, always find- 
ing him the same. I will recall only one of these oc- 
casions, however, and this simply to show his kind- 
ness of heart and friendly spirit for one who could be 
of no possible service to him. 

It was one day, several years later, when I had been 
to Woolwich Arsenal and refused admittance, that I 
remembered having a friend at court. I went to Marl- 
borough House and sent in my card. I had been there 
before, so had no difficulty this time and was soon in 
the presence of the Prince. I told him briefly what I 
wanted, and turning to his desk and taking a card he 
wrote : 

This will introduce you to Captain Osbon of New 
York. He desires to visit the arsenal. Please extend full 
courtesies to him. Wales. 

" When would you like to go down, Captain ? " he 
asked as he handed me my credentials. 

I replied that I thought of going next morning. 



Meet the Prince of Wales 103 

" Very well," he said, " we'll try to make things 
pleasant for you." 

I thanked him and retired then, and next morning 
took the train for Woolwich. Arriving at the gates, I 
was stopped by the sentinel as before, and my busi- 
ness was demanded. I said, 

" I wish to see the Commandant. I have a card of 
admission from the Prince of Wales." 

The way that guard's manner changed was some- 
thing wonderful to see. He shouted for the corporal 
of the guard, and the corporal of the guard sum- 
moned the officer of the day. I wasn't kept waiting a 
minute. 

The officer of the day greeted me cordially, and 
seemed to know that a Captain Osbon was expected. 
He presently turned me over to another officer, who 
took me to the Commandant's office, where I was 
received like a genuine personage. 

I was then given every facility for observing the 
arsenal, and accompanied by an officer spent a most 
pleasant and profitable day in the place, lunching with 
the Commandant at noon. All day I was treated with 
such courtesy as might have been shown to some dis- 
tinguished American^ instead of an ordinary citizen 
of the Republic. When evening came, they would not 
permit me to return to the city for dinner. 

So I sat down with the Commandant and his staff 
to dinner — a sort of family affair — and by and by told 
them some stories of the Civil War during which, as 
Farragut's signal officer, I had taken part in some 
interesting events. We shall hear of these later. I have 
gone far ahead of my narrative to complete this epi- 



I04 A Sailor of Fortune 

sode — and I only hope the chapters ahead will prove as 
interesting as my little crowd of listeners seemed to 
find them that night in the Woolwich Arsenal. 

At train time we were all taken to the station and 
I found there a special for the whole party, including 
several ladies. Throughout, I was paid the deference 
and attention due to a guest of the Prince, and, alto- 
gether, it was the greatest day I ever spent in Eng- 
land, for which I have always been deeply grateful to 
my old friend, who is now His Majesty, Edward VIL, 
King of England. 



XXI 

The Beginning of Civil War 

THE year i860 was an eventful one for New 
York City. The entertainment of the Japa- 
nese Legation and of the Prince of Wales 
kept things lively up till the middle of October, and 
then came the last days of the great presidential cam- 
paign which ended with the election of Abraham Lin- 
coln. That was a fierce and bitter campaign, and when 
Lincoln was declared elected the bitterness and the 
trouble were only just begun. In the South, State after 
State adopted secession measures, and the retiring ad- 
ministration of James Buchanan, if it did not openly 
encourage the secession idea, at least did not much 
oppose the seizing of public property — forts and arma- 
ment throughout the Southern States. Officers and 
soldiers were permitted to resign, munitions of war 
were left within reach of the insurgents. Everything 
was done, it would seem, to get matters well along be- 
fore Lincoln took his seat, to make his position hard 
and embarrassing. 

But not all the commanders at Southern military 
points submitted or became party to the secession move- 
ment. Some of them strengthened their positions in 
preparation for the conflict which they saw coming. 
Colonel Gardiner, who was in command of the de- 
fences at Charleston Harbour, attempted to increase his 
supply of ammunition, and as early as October, i860, 

105 



io6 A Sailor of Fortune 

was removed by the Secretary of War, John Buchanan 
Floyd, who for more than a year had been quietly 
arming the South in preparation for the coming 
struggle.* 

Major Robert Anderson was appointed to succeed 
Gardiner, but being a man of staunch loyalty he im- 
mediately reported the condition of affairs, and urged 
that Fort Sumter and Castle Pinckney be strongly 
garrisoned, if the Government meant to command the 
harbour. General Scott, then Commander in Chief of 
the United States Army, also urged the matter, but 
Secretary Floyd had excellent reasons for giving no 
attention to these pleas. On his own responsibility, 
therefore, Major Anderson began to strengthen the 
defences of the harbour, and when the South Caro- 
lina Ordinance of Secession had passed, and he knew 
that commissioners had been appointed to proceed to 
Washington and demand the surrender of the Charles- 
ton forts, he realised that with his little body of loyal 
men he must at once take up the strongest position for 
defence. This was Fort Sumter, which he entered, 
without instructions, on the evening of December 
26th, i860. Secretary Floyd immediately ordered An- 
derson to explain his conduct, and the gallant Major's 
reply was that it was to save the government works. 
He likewise asked for reinforcements and supplies, 
and the retiring administration was placed in the em- 

* " During the past year 135,430 muskets have been quietly 
transferred from the Northern arsenal at Springfield alone to 
those of the Southern States. We are much obliged to Secretary 
Floyd for the foresight he has thus displayed in disarming 
the North and equipping the South for this emergency." — Mobile 
Advertiser, 



Beginning of Civil War 107 

barrassing position either of complying with a proper 
and loyal request or of openly abetting the secession 
movement. Days were allowed to pass without ac- 
tion, during which the insurgents were busy obstruct- 
ing the harbour, enfilading all its approaches and re- 
moving the lights and buoys essential to the safe en- 
trance of relieving vessels. It was only after these 
preparations were fairly complete that a vessel, the 
Star of the West, was chartered by the Government to 
carry supplies and reinforcements to Sumter. 

It is probable that President Buchanan was sincere 
enough in this attempt at succour for Major Ander- 
son, but the President was surrounded by disloyal 
men, and Jacob Thompson, Secretary of the Interior, 
by his own confession afterward acknowledged that 
he sent word to the Charleston authorities " that the 
Star of the West w^as coming with reinforcements." 
She sailed on January 5th, with great and ostenta- 
tious secrecy, commanded by my old friend John Mc- 
Gowan, under whom, it will be remembered, I had 
risen to the position of chief mate on the steamship 
Moses Taylor. 

As reporter for the World I was to have gone with 
the Star of the West, holding nominally the position 
of second officer, but in the eager and very manifest 
anxiety to get her off secretly she sailed in broad day- 
light, several hours ahead of time, and before I could 
get my luggage to the wharf at the foot of Warren 
Street. I do not wish it understood that Captain Mc- 
Gowan was ever for a single instant insincere in his 
purpose. He was simply master of the ship, acting 
under orders from Washington. The vessel that 



io8 A Sailor of Fortune 

night, down the bay, took on two hundred and fifty 
artillerists and marines, with anns and ammunition, 
and proceeded on her way, reaching Charleston Bar 
before daylight, January 9th. 

But she never reached Fort Sumter. Two miles 
from that point the first cannon shot of the South 
against the North came ricochetting across her bows 
from a masked battery on Morris Island, three-quar- 
ters of a mile away. The national flag was flying at 
her gaff, and Captain McGowan immediately flung 
out a large American ensign at her fore. This only 
increased the firing. Morris Island thundered away, 
and now and then a shot came from Fort Moultrie. 
Two steam tugs and an armed schooner put out to 
intercept her. Being an ordinary paddle-wheel ocean 
steamer, without armament, she was in no position to 
defend herself, and Captain McGowan, finding him- 
self hemmed in and in imminent danger, put about, 
after seventeen shots had been fired at him, and re- 
turned to New York, where he arrived January 12th. 
It became known later that a very small quantity of 
powder was in the Charleston forts at this time, and 
had Major Anderson been properly advised he would 
have opened with his powerful guns under cover of 
which the Star of the West might have come safely 
to port. It was never intended that she should do so. 
The expedition ended precisely as had been planned 
by those who cajoled the President and abetted seces- 
sion at Washington. The great Civil War had begun, 
though it was not until the fall of Sumter, three 
months later, that the Federal Government was will- 
ing to acknowledge it. 



XXII 

My First Meeting with Abraham Lincoln 

WITH the return of the Star of the West, 
excitement in the North ran high. The 
outlook was dark and people's hearts were 
full of foreboding. In the South preparations for 
war went on at a lively pace. Soldiers were drilling, 
tugs were being converted into gunboats, and every- 
body expected to fight within a few days. Heavy 
guns and mortars were conveyed to Charleston, and 
quantities of powder. The Times correspondent at 
that place reported that 487,000 pounds had arrived 
within a few weeks after the Star of the West inci- 
dent. The " Southern Congress," which was con- 
vened at Montgomery, was said to be " tinkering with 
the tariff," and passing an unnecessary law that 
" bread-stuffs and munitions of war were to be ad- 
mitted free." 

One going over the old files of dailies to-day can 
but faintly imagine the excitement and intensity of 
feeling with which these reports were first read, now 
more than forty-five years ago. Still the Administra- 
tion at the North did nothing, and would do nothing 
until the inauguration of Lincoln, an event which cer- 
tain fire-eating and fire-breathing politicians had de- 
clared would never take place. 

It was on February 19th, 1861, that Lincoln 

109 



no A Sailor of Fortune 

reached New York on his inaugural journey from his 
home in Springfield to Washington. He came by the 
way of Albany, Troy, and Poughkeepsie, making 
short speeches at each stop, and was hailed by thou- 
sands of shouting people as the Moses who was to 
lead them from the wilderness of obscure paths and 
impending perils. At each place he assured them 
quietly and gently that he would do what he believed 
to be right and for the best, and the impression that 
he made was deep and lasting. 

At Thirtieth Street between Ninth and Tenth Ave- 
nues, New York City, the new Hudson River Railway 
Station was thrown open for the first time that day. 
The engine of the presidential train was decked as 
gaily as a bride, and at three o'clock, p. m., it slowly 
drew its precious freight through the cheering multi- 
tude to the platform. From here the grand procession 
to the Astor House equalled even that of the Prince of 
Wales, every street being a mass of banners and bunt- 
ing and cheering throngs. Whatever of disloyalty 
there was in New York, and there was plenty of it, 
did not manifest itself on that day. 

I saw Mr. Lincoln in person at the Astor House 
that night. I was not detailed to interview him for 
the World, but went over of my own accord. 

I was ushered into his presence and introduced my- 
self, stating that I was an old traveller. I shall never 
forget his appearance or his position. He leaned his 
right elbow on the mantelpiece, and his face wore a 
sad, care-worn look, as if he would be glad to be let 
alone. He straightened himself up and asked me 
where I had travelled. I replied, " AH over the world 



Meeting with Lincoln 1 1 1 

— came near getting to both poles in one voyage," 
adding that I had spent most of my life on the ocean, 
and had now drifted into journalism for the reason 
that I liked an " all night in " once in a while. 

Tired as he evidently was, he seemed interested in 
my chat, which perhaps was a change from the political 
and personal questions which had been put to him 
throughout his travels. I was still telling him my ad- 
ventures when the newspaper men appeared. Then 
he talked to them. 

I saw Mr. Lincoln many times after that, the first 
being just after the battle of Bull Run. He remem- 
bered me instantly, and asked some particulars about 
an incident I had previously narrated. From that time 
I counted him as one of my friends, and such he 
proved. He was always ready with an amusing tale, 
some anecdote to illustrate his point. Later in the war 
I often supplied him with news before it came in the 
official way, but that is looking too far ahead. It was 
my first talk with him at the Astor House that I re- 
member most vividly. There before me stood the man 
upon whom the fate of -a nation rested. There in his 
face was written all the sad forecast and resolution of 
the coming struggle. In a little speech made next day, 
I think, he said: 

" When the time comes, I shall take the ground 
that I think is right — right for the North, for the 
South, for the East, for the West, for the whole coun- 
try." That was what I saw written in his face — the 
resolve that, come what would, misunderstanding, 
bitterness, and tragedy, he would take the ground he 
considered right, and he would maintain it to the end. 



XXIII 

I Engage in a Second Attempt to 
Relieve Sumter 

THE successful inauguration of Lincoln only 
made more bitter the feeling of the South. 
The inaugural address was denounced as a 
declaration of war by men who had never seen a sin- 
gle word of it in print. The war element did not want 
to read the message. They wanted only war. 

On the day of his inauguration a message came to 
the President from Major Anderson in which he 
stated that a force of 20,000 men would now be 
needed to relieve the fortress within the time when 
such relief would avail the survivors, whose stores 
and ammunition were limited. Lincoln gave the mat- 
ter immediate consideration, being at first inclined to 
abandon the fort, thereby removing what South Caro- 
lina seemed to regard as her chief excuse for rebel- 
lion. This policy did, in fact, greatly disturb men 
like Senators Wigfall and Pryor, who were for war 
at all hazards, and advocated a baptism of fire and 
blood. 

But the policy of withdrawal would not do. The 
question was deeper than that, and no temporary re- 
lief, however soothingly applied, would result in any 
permanent good. In his inaugural, the President had 
pledged himself to use the force at his command to 

112 



Atte npt to Relieve Sumter 113 

hold, occupy and possess the forts and other property 
belonging to the United States, and the only question 
in his mind became the proper method of fulfilling this 
pledge. 

Major Anderson now regarded it as nearly impos- 
sible for any vessel to reach the gates of Fort Sumter. 
The gunners of the opposing forts had the range, as 
was demonstrated by an " accidental shot " striking 
the threshold of the Sumter gate during blank car- 
tridge practice from Morris Island. Any ship could 
certainly be destroyed, either before reaching the fort, 
or while disembarking. Nevertheless, Lincoln was 
determined to do what he could. In January, Gus- 
tavus V. Fox, formerly lieutenant in the navy, had 
presented to President Buchanan a plan for the relief 
of Sumter. Fox was now summoned to detail his plan 
to the new President, which, in brief, was to have 
supplies put up in portable packages, loaded on a ves- 
sel, to be convoyed by several men-of-war and three 
fast tugboats, which under cover of darkness were to 
run the supplies through to the forts. Launches were 
also to be used for this purpose. 

The plan with its possibilities of success appealed 
to the President, and Mr. Fox was sent to Charleston 
to visit Sumter. He was accorded special permission 
to visit the fort by Governor Pickens, and on his re- 
turn reported that Major Anderson had supplies to 
last until April 15th, and that any relief to be of value 
must arrive by that date. The President then ver- 
bally authorised him to prepare his expedition, which 
he did with energy and skill, having all ready for 
departure by the 9th of April. 



114 A Sailor of Fortui e 

The Collins liner, the Baltic, was selected as the 
troop and store ship of the expedition, which further 
consisted of the United States ships Powhatan, 
Pawnee, Pocahontas, and the little revenue cutter 
Harriet Lane (Captain John Faunce) whom we have 
met before in these chapters, rendering special service 
to the Prince of Wales. Besides these, there were the 
three swift tugs already mentioned. I may say here 
that the expedition, being a secret affair, did not sail 
as a fleet, but each craft separately — at different hours 
and, I believe, from various points. It was not to as- 
semble until it reached Charleston Bar. My recollec- 
tion is that the Pawnee and the Pocahontas came out 
of the Chesapeake. The Powhatan, selected as the 
flagship, left from some New York anchorage and 
dropping down the bay, took on Lieutenant (after- 
wards Admiral) Porter and proceeded directly to Fort 
Pickens, another point threatened by the Confeder- 
ates. The Baltic also left from New York, as did the 
Harriet Lane, though from different docks. Concern- 
ing the tugs I do not know, for I never saw them, and 
knew nothing of them at the time. 

It was to my old friend. Captain Faunce, that I 
applied for permission to go in the Harriet Lane. 
Being merely a World reporter, it was necessary that 
I should conform to the regulations in the matter of 
carrying civilians on the cutter, so Captain Faunce 
obligingly appointed me as his clerk and signal officer, 
and I became the only newspaper man in the fleet. 

There had been no announcement that our destina- 
tion was Fort Sumter, but I believe the fact was 
pretty generally understood by the officers — the crew 



Attempt to Relieve Sumter 115 

remaining in entire ignorance of the nature of the 
cruise, or of the duties expected of them. Those on 
the Harriet Lane had enlisted only for cutter service, 
usually easy work, seldom involving deep-sea cruising 
or being away from anchorage at night. Certainly the 
idea of fighting was furthest from their thoughts. I 
may add that the Lane took on no extra stores or did 
anything to excite the suspicion that the vessel was 
bound on an adventurous voyage, except perhaps that 
she loaded an unusual amount of coal. When we left 
New York Harbour, on the morning of the 9th of 
April, 1 861, not a soul on board knew positively 
whither she was bound, for she was despatched with 
" sealed orders," not to be opened until twelve hours 
had elapsed. The only sailing orders given were to 
steer south until the twelve hours had passed, after 
which we should learn our destination. 

We saw none of our fleet at the time of sailing, nor 
until we were off Charleston, for that matter, though 
of this later. We steered south, according to orders, 
heading straight for a storm then gathering off Hat- 
teras, that point where the brave little Monitor and so 
many other good ships lie buried. Toward evening, 
when the twelve hours were up, the official envelope 
was opened, and all hands then learned that we were 
on our way to a rendezvous off Charleston Bar, where 
we would meet other vessels and " report to the senior 
naval officer present " for further instructions. Fur- 
thermore, we were to haul down the revenue cutter 
ensign and pennant, and hoist in their stead the na- 
tional ensign and navy pennant, and Captain Faunce 
was to announce to officers and men that the vessel had 



ii6 A Sailor of Fortune 

been transferred from the Treasury to the Navy De- 
partment, and would hereafter be subject to the laws 
and regulations governing the same. 

Captain Faunce called all hands aft and read to 
them his orders from the Se^fetary of the Treasury, 
The men listened attentively, but so far as I could see, 
their faces did not bear evidence that they were glad 
of the change. They had not been hired to fight, and 
patriotism in the North had not then reached a very 
exalted pitch. Besides, it was by no means certain 
that all of these men had made up their minds as to 
the rights or wrongs of the Southern Cause. 

Captain Faunce, noting the lack of enthusiasm 
among the men, explained to them that in war time 
the laws specifically provided that all public armed 
vessels were held to be under the control of the 
Navy Department, and that the orders, therefore, 
were just, and must be obeyed without question or 
murmur. 

At this, some of the foremost spirits spoke up, de- 
claring that they had not entered the Revenue Cutter 
Service with the intention or expectation of going to 
war, and vigorously protested being put under fire 
against their will. They had set out on this cruise 
under false pretences, supposing they were simply 
shifting stations, and with no thought of going to 
battle. 

The talk of these spokesmen had the effect of in- 
citing a number of the crew to the verge of downright 
mutiny, and for a m-oment or two the situation looked 
alarming. Captain Faunce, however, was very cool. 
He reasoned with the men a little, and then he said : 



Attempt to Relieve Sumter 117 

" Boys, this is a serious business. I want you to 
understand that you are placing yourselves in a very 
dangerous position. I appreciate your surprise and 
point of view. Still, as your commanding officer, I 
will say right here and now that every man must do 
his duty and obey orders implicitly, or, by God, he 
will never have a chance to see a gun fired in action! 
My orders are to take the ship to Charleston and to 
report to the senior officer, and I'm going to do so if I 
have to bury half of this ship's company on the way. 
Go forward, now, and do your duty like good Amer- 
icans." Then, turning to the boatswain, " Pipe down ! " 
he said. 

A good deal of talk was indulged in by the crew 
when they reached their own end of the vessel, but by 
midnight all hands were about their work cheerfully, 
and obeyed as promptly as if the revenue pennant 
v/ere still at the masthead. 

We now plunged full into the storm off Hatteras. 
The sea became very heavy and, loaded with coal as 
we were, we wallowed through the billows that broke 
over us continually, threatening to end our part of the 
expedition right there. At one time it was thought 
that to ease the vessel we should be obliged to throw 
some of our guns overboard. But the Harriet Lane 
proved to be an excellent sea boat, and on the nth 
of April we were off Charleston Bar, with all hands 
eager to learn what our real duties were to be. If I 
remember rightly, the Pawnee was already there, and 
perhaps the Baltic and Pocahontas. At all events, we 
arrived about the same time — all but the three tugs, 
of which we had been deprived in the heavy storm off 



ii8 A Sailor of Fortune 

Hatteras. We anchored a little closer to the Bar than 
the others, and Captain Faunce went aboard the 
Pawnee, the senior ship, to report our arrival, and to 
arrange for a code of signals which would be unintel- 
ligible to the enemy. The sea was still heavy, the sky 
dark and stonny, and all buoys had been removed 
from the channels. It was impossible for vessels of 
any size to go inside the Bar, and as our tugs still 
failed to appear we were at a loss what to do. As we 
lay there waiting and undetermined, an incident oc- 
curred which I have never seen recorded, but which 
seems to me worthy of note. A vessel suddenly ap- 
peared through the mist from behind the Bar, a pas- 
senger steamer, which was made out to be the Nash- 
ville. She had no colours set, and as she approached 
the fleet she refused to show them. Captain Faunce 
ordered one of the guns manned, and as she came 
still nearer turned to the gunner. 

"Stop her!" he said, and a shot went skipping 
across her bows. 

Immediately the United States ensign went to her 
gaff end, and she was allowed to proceed. The Har- 
riet Lane had fired the first shotted gun of the war 
from the Union side. I may here note that the Nash- 
ville was subsequently converted into a Confederate 
privateer, to which we shall have cause to refer again 
in these papers, and it seems a strange coincidence 
that I should thus have seen the first shot fired upon 
her, and was to see the last, which ten months later 
would send her to the bottom of the sea. 

Still at dusk on the evening of the nth our ill- 
fated tugs had not arrived, and without them our 



Attempt to Relieve Sumter 119 

launches were of no avail.* Captain Faunce looked 
out over the gloomy, unmarked channel. 

" For God's sake," he said, " I hope they don't ex- 
pect us to take these big vessels over the Bar." 

We knew that we had been located by the enemy, 
for small craft had been scouting around during the 
evening, returning to the Confederate forts. As for 
Anderson, it was unlikely that he knew anything of 
our arrival^ or that the enemy would give him either 
time or opportunity to acquire this knowledge. Night 
came down, dark, stormy, and ominous. 

There was no very sound sleep on any of the ves- 
sels. I turned in about midnight, but I was restless 
and wakeful. At length I was suddenly startled from 
a doze by a sound that not only wakened me, but 
brought me to my feet. It was the boom of a gun. 
From Fort Johnson a fiery shell had described an arc 
in the night and dropped close to the ill-fated Sumter. 
A moment later when I reached the deck, Morris Is- 
land had opened with a perfect roar of artillery. It 
was now half-past four in the morning, April 12th, 
1 86 1, and the Civil War, which was to continue 
through four years of the bitterest, bloodiest strife 
this nation has ever seen, had begun in earnest, at 
last. 

I shall never forget the scene on board the Harriet 
Lane that memorable morning. The first shot had 
brought every man to the deck, and, standing on the 
wheelhouse or any high point for a better view, the 
men who but a day or two before had been ready to 

* There were no steam launches in those days. The heavily 
laden boats would have been towed to the fort by the tugs. 



I20 A Sailor of Fortune 

mutiny rather than go into action, now screamed and 
swore and raved and demanded that they be led 
against these assailants of the old flag. Not one of 
them but would have laid down his life then, and it 
seemed for a time that our patriotism would get the 
better of our judgment and spur us to a useless sacri- 
fice. We knew that we could do no good — that with 
the heavy sea and unmarked channels, and with the 
accuracy of the Confederate gun fire, vessels such as 
ours could never reach Sumter. We could only look 
on, and give vent to our feelings in violent language, 
and this we did in a manner that I have never seen 
equalled. 

Yet we did formulate a plan of relief when it grew 
lighter. We found two small ice schooners lying near 
us off the bar. Our plan was to seize these vessels 
and use them to tow in our launches, with supplies 
and reinforcements. It was argued that as the ves- 
sels were loaded with ice they would not sink, even 
if their hulls were riddled with shot from the Con- 
federate batteries. But with daylight the bombard- 
ment became so destructive that even this last resort 
was reluctantly abandoned. 

I have never been able either with word or pen to 
express my feelings during that long, terrible bom- 
bardment. The morning was dark and lowering. 
Across the harbour the belching cannons told that the 
nation was rent asunder. It seemed to me that the 
end of the world was about due. When a little after 
seven o'clock we saw that Major Anderson was an- 
swering his assailants, gun for gun, we broke at last 
into cheers, though we could not hope for victory, for 



Attempt to Relieve Sumter 121 

we knew that his stores were about exhausted and that 
his ammunition was low. 

All day the cannons thundered through the gloom. 
Night once more fell thick and stormy, and still the 
pounding did not cease. I think few on any of our 
vessels slept, and when morning came clear and bright, 
it only brought still heavier and fiercer cannonade, 
with red-hot shot from Fort Moultrie, followed by 
smoke and flames, and we knew that Fort Sumter 
was on fire. 

We expected Anderson to surrender then. But the 
firing went on and the Stars and Stripes still waved 
above the doomed fort. Then, in the early afternoon, 
the old flag suddenly disappeared, and we knew that it 
had been shot away. But as suddenly it reappeared, 
a little lower down, but still waving above the ram- 
parts, and we broke again and again into wild cheers.* 
Once more our would-be mutineers raved and swore 
and vowed that the day would come when they would 
avenge that striking down of the flag. But not long 
after a silence fell upon the vessels of our fleet, for 
there was a white flag waving above the walls of 
Sumter. 

We know, now, that Major Anderson never raised 
that flag; that it was hoisted at the request of General 
Wigfall, who had come across to the fort, pretending 
authority from General Beauregard, and that he in- 
duced one of Major Anderson's officers to display the 
truce signal for the purpose of conference. We know 
that Wigfall at first waved the flag himself to try to 

* It was hoisted by Sergeant Peter Hart, Major Anderson's old 
and faithful body-servant. 



122 A Sailor of Fortune 

put a stop to the shots that were falHng about him, 
much too close for comfort, and that, when the forts 
did not at once cease firing, he hopped down, terribly 
frightened, and begged one of Anderson's men to 
wave the white banner, and that this was done. But 
we did not know the facts then, or that Anderson, 
when he learned the trick of it, indignantly ordered 
the white flag down. To us it meant the end, and we 
were a sad company, especially as we saw small boats 
evidently bearing officers of rank leave the Confed- 
erate batteries for the battered fort. We had no means 
of communicating with the garrison, and for a long 
time we were left in suspense as to the number of lives 
lost and the terms of surrender. 

But it was all over that evening. Everything was 
silent and we had learned the news. The fort had sur- 
rendered, though without loss of life, and the gallant 
little band had marched out with colours flying and 
drums beating, saluting the Stars and Stripes with 
fifty guns. 

On the next day, Sunday, April 14th, Anderson 
and his men were taken on board the Baltic, and we 
set out on the return voyage to New York. 

As the expedition was to all intents and purposes 
at an end, it was now my duty, as a reporter for the 
World, to be on the ship with Major Anderson. Cap- 
tain Faunce kindly gave permission for my transfer 
to the Baltic, where I began at once to write the story 
of the fight from Major Anderson's own lips, continu- 
ing as he could tell it to me, for he was ill, exhausted, 
and sick at heart. Being the only newspaper man 
with the expedition, I had a valuable news "beat," 



Attempt to Relieve Sumter 123 

and I wanted to make the most of it, you may be 
sure. 

Yet I do not think I would have been able to get 
on such terms of confidence with Major Anderson 
but for a lucky accident. One of his officers, Lieuten- 
ant Truman Seymour, came to me just after leaving 
the Bar and said: 

" I understand your name is Osbon." 

" Yes, sir," I said, " that is correct." 

*' I wonder if you could be related to Dominie Os- 
bon," was his next remark. 

I replied, " I am his eldest son." 

" Then you ought to know me," he said, " for my 
name is Truman Seymour." 

" Yes," I answered, " your father was presiding 
elder of the Troy Conference. He was one of my 
father's best friends." 

Seymour was very close to Major Anderson and 
introduced me in a manner which made the sick officer 
warm to me at once. I was with him almost con- 
stantly during the homeward trip, looking to his com- 
fort, often reading to him from the New York papers, 
which he had not seen for a long time. In turn he told 
me the whole story of the fight, which is now common 
history and need not be set down here. He told me 
how the w^hite flag had been raised without his knowl- 
edge, how when he came up and found it flying by 
Wigfall's request he had ordered it down, and had 
been begged by emissaries then arriving from Beaure- 
gard to let it remain until terms could be arranged. 
Major Anderson was a gentle, brave. God-fearing 
man, then but fifty-six years old, but his spirit and his 



124 A Sailor of Fortune 

heart were broken. That he had been first to let the 
Stars and Stripes be hauled down was a heavy blow. 
He had brought away the torn and shattered banner, 
which ten years later was to become his winding sheet, 
and from across the tattered end he gave me a strip of 
the historic flag, a piece of which I still preserve. 



XXIV 

The Arrival in New York 

OF course our expedition had been a failure, 
and there was a feeling among officers and 
men that our return would not be a matter 
of much honour and celebration. Mr. Fox realised 
this, and, learning that I was the only newspaper man 
on board, came to me before we reached New York 
and said: 

" Mr. Osbon, I have a favour to ask of you. You 
are probably aware that I planned this expedition and 
urged upon Mr. Lincoln the importance of relieving 
Major Anderson. It has proven a failure from a va- 
riety of reasons over which I could have no control, 
and through no fault of mine. Nevertheless, I shall 
be singled out for adverse criticism, which will be un- 
deserved. I desire to avoid this as much as possible, 
and I shall esteem it a special favour if you will make 
no mention of my name in connection with the affair, 
or that I was on board the Baltic. The matter has 
ended unfortunately, and I do not wish to be asso- 
ciated with it any more than necessary." 

I was anxious to oblige Mr. Fox and I felt the 
truth of what he said. Indeed we were all more or less 
in the same boat, so in preparing my article I sang the 
praises of Anderson, Doubleday, Seymour and the 
others who had made the gallant fight for the flag, 

125 



126 A Sailor of Fortune 

with as little reference to the expedition as possible, 
omitting the name of Fox altogether. We all realised 
later that this was a mistake, a very annoying one for 
me, in after years; but it seemed the proper thing to 
do at the time. 

We were now nearing Sandy Hook, and Major 
Anderson had prepared a report of the Sumter en- 
gagement, which was to be given to the telegraph boat 
as we passed the Hook. Besides being his reader, I 
had acted as his amanuensis, writing letters to his va- 
rious friends in New York. He now handed the notes 
of his report to me, with the request that I read them 
and suggest any additions that might occur to me as 
necessary. He was ill and very weak at the time. As 
I looked through the matter my only thought was 
brevity for the sake of telegraphic economy. The 
report as he had written it was very full and ac- 
curate, but contained about three hundred words. 
My suggestion therefore was that it might be con- 
densed. 

" Yes," admitted Anderson, " but Fm too sick to 
do it. You do it for me." 

I sat there by him and worked it down, sentence by 
sentence and word by word. When I had finished I 
read it to him, and he signed it with full approval. 
It contained less than a hundred and fifty words, and 
when the telegraph boat came alongside it was thrown 
to the news messengers in a hermetically sealed tin 
box, and was soon on the way to Washington. The 
message as sent, and as it stands in history to-day is 
as follows: 



Arrival in New York 127 

vS'.^. Baltic, off Sandy Hook, Apr. Eighteenth, ten-thirty, 

A. M., via New York. 
Hon". S. Cameron, Sec'y War, Washn. 

Having defended Fort Sumter for thirty-four hours, 
until the quarters were entirely burned, the main gates 
destroyed by fire, the gorge walls seriously injured, the 
magazine surrounded by flames, and its door closed from 
the effects of heat, four barrels and three cartridges of 
powder only being available and no provisions remaining 
but pork, I accepted terms of evacuation offered by Gen- 
eral Beauregard, being the same offered by him on the 
nth inst., prior to the commencement of hostilities, and 
marched out of the fort Sunday afternoon the 14th 
inst., with colours flying and drums beating, bring- 
ing away company and private property, and saluting my 
flag with fifty guns. 

Robert Anderson, 
Major First Artillery, Commanding, 

I consider it one of the greatest honours of my 
life to have been the companion of Major Anderson 
during those few days of our return voyage, and to 
have been permitted to assist him in the preparation 
of this now historic message. I have known many 
great and noble men, but never a more lovable, unpre- 
tentious soul than that of Major Robert Anderson, 
the hero of Fort Sumter. 

Arriving at New York, we found to our surprise 
that we were all heroes. Instead of being under a 
cloud because of our failure, the members of the ex- 
pedition, next to those of Sumter itself, were covered 
with glory, simply because they had been witnesses 
of that first brave struggle. The nation was fairly 



128 A Sailor of Fortune 

ablaze with patriotism, and ready to welcome and cele- 
brate anyone from the front, especially when, as was 
the case with us, such messengers brought news. At 
the office of the World, which, as you may readily 
imagine, was triumphant in its great beat, I was the 
one object worthy of consideration. When the crowd 
poured in, Mr. Bangs made me get up on the counter 
and tell the story of Sumter to the assembled throng. 
I think I have never seen a wilder fever of excitement 
than throbbed and billowed among those listening 
men. 

Everywhere were boys, running and crying war 
news. Everywhere were knots and groups of men 
discussing the great event. 

But there was one disagreeable feature of our re- 
turn. Gustavus Fox realised now that he had made a 
mistake by having his name withheld, and in his 
chagrin went so far as to declare that I had omitted 
the mention on my own account. Naturally I resented 
this charge, and told the truth. As a matter of fact, 
neither the withholding of his name nor the subse- 
quent controversy did him any real harm, for his skill 
in preparing the expedition and his effort in doing the 
best he could were recognised in his appointment as 
Assistant Secretary of the Navy under Gideon Welles. 
But Mr. Fox always bore me ill-will, and in his posi- 
tion of brief authority the time was to come when he 
could wipe out what he perhaps considered an old and 
bitter score. But that is a story for another time. 



XXV 

I Join the ^'Herald" Staff and a Great 
Naval Expedition 

EVEN after Sumter, the nation at large did not 
realise the magnitude of the struggle then be- 
ginning. President Lincoln issued a call for 
seventy-five thousand men, and volunteers came in as 
gaily as if the invitation were for a festival parade. 
The bloodless affair at Charleston had somehow cre- 
ated an impression that subsequent engagements 
would be of a like nature, and there was a general 
feeling on both sides that within a few brief weeks 
the little " unpleasantness " would be arranged, with 
perhaps just enough excitement to stir young blood 
without spilling it, and just enough explosion of 
powder to clear the air, once the smoke had blown 
away. 

But then, in July, came the first battle of Bull Run, 
and when on the afternoon of that fatal day the car- 
riage loads of spectators who had driven out from 
Washington in gala attire to witness a fine military 
spectacle came tearing back, pellmell, in a wild stam- 
pede; when the Union forces flung away arms and 
accoutrements as they fled in a mad panic of defeat; 
when men by the thousand lay bleeding upon the field, 
then at last the nation realised that it was plunged 
into a great and terrible conflict, the end of which 

129 



12^ A Sailor of Fortune 

no man could foresee. Armies were mustered, ships 
were gathered, and men with graver faces enHsted 
for the serious business of war. I may say here that 
I did not get to Bull Run in time for the battle; but 
I met the crowds coming back, and I know they were 
in a hurry. I could tell by their appearance and the 
number of valuable things they threw away. 

I remained with the World for several weeks after 
the Sumter expedition, but the financial status of that 
paper was then unusually precarious, and we reporters 
were frequently suspended because of a lack of funds 
with which to pay our salaries. Perhaps I ought to 
add that I was at the time receiving nine dollars a 
week, for work which in these days of more liberal 
newspaper methods would warrant the payment of 
anywhere from five to ten times that amount. 

It was during one of my periodical retirements that 
I remembered how, after the " Stevens Battery " beat, 
Mr. Frederick Hudson, managing editor of the Her- 
ald, had sent for me through Mr. Hervey C. Calkins * 
of the same paper. Calkins was now more than ever 
of the opinion that a man who had been under fire and 
had a practical knowledge of the sea would be useful 
on the Herald staff. I was received most cordially by 
Mr. Hudson, who promptly offered me the position 
of naval editor at a salary of twenty-five dollars a 
week. As this was nearly three times what I was sup- 
posed to receive from the World — the actual propor- 
tion was much larger — I gladly accepted the place. 
I think I was the first man to fill that particular office 

* Afterward founder of the Homeopathic Hospital, New York 
City. 



Great Naval Expedition 131 

on the Herald staff, and I found the employment most 
congenial. 

But as the months passed and the war excitment 
increased, with vaster naval preparations, I began to 
feel that in some manner I must get into more active 
service. Old memories of days in Chinese and Argen- 
tine waters made me very restless to feel once more 
the deck of a vessel rock to the roar of cannon, and 
to see the cutlasses flash and the shells burst through 
the smoke of battle. One with a fondness for move- 
ment does not find it easy to forget these things, or 
to remain idle, even in old age. 

I concluded to apply for a commission in the navy, 
and went on to Washington for that purpose. I was 
well acquainted with Gideon Welles, Secretary of the 
Navy, and was offered by him the position of acting 
master's mate. I thanked him, but suggested that as 
I had been commander in a Navy and had been in 
action — something very few of our officers could boast 
in those days — I thought I was entitled to a better 
rating. Then I added : 

" Mr. Welles, I should like to carry on my journal- 
istic work. Suppose you give me a letter, so that I 
can serve in a naval staff capacity and at the same time 
act as a war correspondent." 

The old gentleman thought it over a little, and then 
dictated to a secretary a letter to this effect : 

To All Commanding Officers, U. S. Navy: 

Mr. B. S. Osbon, a correspondent of the New York 
Herald, asks permission to accompany some of the 
expeditions going South, and the Department has no 



132 A Sailor of Fortune 

objection to his acting in any staff capacity to which the 
commanding officer may see fit to appoint him, provided 
it does not interfere with the regulations of the Navy. 

^Respectfully, 

Gideon Welles^ 

Secretary U. S. Navy, 

A roving commission of this sort v^as precisely 
what I wished, and armed with it I returned to New 
York and reported to Mr. Hudson, who rejoiced with 
me that we should have a correspondent right in the 
front of things, and with sufficient practical knowl- 
edge to know what was going on. I would like to say, 
before going further, that Frederick Hudson was one 
of the noblest gentlemen and one of the ablest news- 
paper men I have ever known. 

The North now began to assemble in Hampton 
Roads an expedition, consisting of a very large fleet 
and a body of military, the first object being to strike 
the South a hard blow at some point where the har- 
bour and surrounding country would make it a valu- 
able base for operations by land and sea. Port Royal, 
South Carolina, offered the finest harbour below the 
Chesapeake, and was a station from which pressure 
upon Savannah and Charleston could be brought to 
bear. With the exception of Hatteras Inlet, which 
was too shallow for large steamers, the North had 
no coaling station south of Hampton Roads, a very 
necessary adjunct in those days, when vessels were 
obliged to coal at frequent intervals. Port Royal was 
therefore selected as the fleet's first objective point, 
though it was a state secret, guarded as well as that 



Great Naval Expedition 133 

of any important movement during the war. There 
was a general impression, which was perhaps officially 
encouraged, that Charleston was to be the point of at- 
tack; but as preparations progressed the mystery be- 
came daily deeper, and public curiosity rose to a high 
pitch. Every day the papers printed big headlines 
about " The Great Naval Expedition/' with surmises 
as to its probable destination. Washington corre- 
spondents were prodded to obtain facts, not for pub- 
lication but as a basis upon which to arrange for 
future news. It was all of no avail. Commanding 
officers knew nothing. The President and the Secre- 
tary of the Navy were dumb. 

One morning Mr. Hudson said to me: 
" Mr. Osbon, I think you had better run over to 
Washington yourself. You have a practical idea of 
such matters, and I should like you to arrange, if 
possible, to accompany the expedition in some 
capacity that will give us an inside position on the 



news." 



I was in Washington that evening, and at the office 
of Secretary Welles bright and early next morning. 
While waiting for him in Chief Clerk Faxon's room, 
I happened to notice a table covered with charts, and 
at a glance recognised a Coast Survey chart of Port 
Royal Harbour as the document uppermost on the 
pile. 

" What IS uppermost on the pile is uppermost in 
their minds," I thought. " The squadron is going to 
Port Royal." The Secretary entered his office just 
then, and I sent in my card. I was promptly admitted, 
and after greetings I said to him, " Mr. Welles, will 



134 A Sailor of Fortune 

you kindly give me a letter to the commanding officer 
o£ the expedition that is going to Port Royal ? " 

The old gentleman stared at me in amazement. 

" How did you know we were sending a fleet to 
Port Royal? " he demanded. " Nobody but the Presi- 
dent, Captain Dupont, General Sherman, and myself 
know that." 

'' And me," I said. 

^'Who told you?" 

'' You did, Mr. Secretary, just now." 

He stared at me for a moment, very sharply. 

" Well," he said, " you are a good guesser, and you 
can go with the fleet. But you know what the viola- 
tion of the Fifty-ninth Article of War means. If you 
publish or say anything concerning our plans, you will 
be arrested and tried by court-martial. Under the 
regulations you can be shot," and he closed the inter- 
view by giving me a letter to Captain Dupont, who 
had assembled the fleet and was to be flag officer of 
the expedition. 

On my return to New York I told Mr. Hudson 
that I knew where the squadron was going, but that 
I was under a solemn obligation not to divulge the 
secret. He simply said: 

" You will need some money, Mr. Osbon. How 
much do you want ? " 

I suggested that I go to Fortress Monroe to await 
the time of departure. Whereupon he gave me the 
necessary funds, with orders to draw as I wanted 
through the Adams Express Company. 

It was now October (1861) and the fleet and troops 
were gathering rapidly. The Wabash, a fine steam 



Great Naval Expedition 135 

frigate of 3274 tons register, carrying forty-eight 
guns, was to be flagship of the expedition and her 
commander, Samuel Francis Dupont, was an able 
officer and a fine, good-natured man, a courtly gentle- 
man of the old school. He received me cordially on 
my arrival at Hampton Roads, and assigned me quar- 
ters on his vessel. 

The South Atlantic Squadron, so-called, consisted 
of eighteen fighting vessels * (some of them converted 
merchantmen), carrying a total of one hundred and 
fifty-five guns, all, I believe, of the old smoothbore 
patterns. With colliers and transports, the fleet num- 
bered about fifty vessels, the largest ever assembled 
by the nation up to that time. Certainly it made a most 
imposing array, and the North could well be proud of 
her ** Great Expedition " as it lay in Hampton Roads, 
waiting for orders to sail. 

The military under General Thomas Sherman con- 
sisted of some twelve thousand troops, divided into 
three brigades, commanded respectively by Brigadier 
Generals Egbert L. Viele, Isaac J. Stevens, and H. G. 
Wright. The soldiers were chiefly from the West, 
and many of them had never seen a vessel before. 
They were fine, orderly fellows, and sang any num- 
ber of Methodist hymns; but the sailors had a poor 
opinion of them. When the day came for embarka- 
tion, the landsmen's manoeuvres in getting aboard the 
transports made a spectacle for gods and men. The 

* The Wabash, Susquehanna, Mohican, Seminole, Pawnee, 
Pocahontas, Unadilla, Oftazva, Pembina, Seneca, Vandalia, Isaac 
Smith, Bienville, R. B. Forbes, Mercury, Augusta, Penguin, and 
Curlew. Only the Wabash is now in existence, serving as a 
militia receiving ship at Boston. 



136 A Sailor of Fortune 

tars viewed them with scorn and derision, and then 
took pity on them, taking their guns and knapsacks, 
and helping them to clamber over the sides. When at 
last they were all aboard they sang another round of 
hymns, and the expedition was ready to start. 

But we did not sail immediately. There were de- 
lays of one kind and another, and a full week went by 
before we were ready to weigh anchor. Meantime I 
had been transferred. Captain Leisgang, commander 
of the troop-ship Matanzas, came aboard the Wabash 
one morning, announced the fact that one of his of- 
ficers was very ill, and asked to borrow a substitute 
from the flagship. Flag Officer Dupont said that he 
regretted very much that he was unable to grant the 
request. Then Leisgang saw me sitting at the table. 

*' Hello, Osbon!" he said, "why can't you come 
along with me ? " 

" That," I replied, " remains for the Flag Officer 
to say." 

" If Mr. Osbon is willing to go, he has my per- 
mission," said Dupont, and I went on board the Ma- 
tansaSj with the understanding that I was to return to 
the Wabash as soon as we reached our destination. 
On the Matanzas I was in the midst of the Methodist 
contingent, for the troops (48th New York Volun- 
teers) on that vessel were commanded by one Colonel 
Perry, himself a Methodist minister, an excellent gen- 
tleman and a brave man, who had seen service in the 
Texan and Mexican wars, and who found it possible 
tQ fight and pray with equal ardour. 

It was on the morning of Tuesday, October 29, 
1 861, that the South Atlantic Squadron left Hamp- 



Great Naval Expedition 137 

ton Roads. A gun fired at daylight was the signal 
for departure — the big Wabash with her forty-eight 
guns leading the way, the other vessels following in 
order, a splendid spectacle. Every paper in the land 
was filled with the news of the sailing of the great 
expedition whose destination remained still unknown 
to the anxious millions of the North. 



XXVI 

I Witness the Fall of Port Royal, and 
am Among the Wounded 

IT was fair weather when we sailed, but, as was 
the case with the Sumter expedition, we ran into 
a heavy gale below Hatteras, which rapidly in- 
creased in fury, until by dusk on Friday, November 
I, it was blowing a hurricane. A signal was now 
made from the flagship to abandon the order of sail- 
ing, and for every vessel to take care of itself, regard- 
less of formation. It was a fearful storm, one of the 
worst known on the coast for years, and it is a won- 
der we did not lose half our fleet. Our poor lands- 
men were in a sad plight and not one of them ever 
expected to see home again, though most of them 
were too seasick to care. As it was, the Isaac Smith 
was obliged to throw her guns overboard, and one 
steamer, the Governor^ was lost, though her battalion 
of six hundred marines, all but seven, were saved by 
the frigate Sabine^ under the command of Captain 
Ringgold. 

By Sunday, the 3d, the storm had abated; we now 
opened our sealed orders and for the first time knew 
officially that Port Royal was our destination. On the 
next morning we were off Port Royal Bar with about 
half the fleet, and by Tuesday morning all but the ill- 
fated Governor had reported. I now returned to the 

138 



Among the Wounded 139 

Wabash, according to agreement, having been of no 
service on the Matanzas, as the second mate recovered 
his health and was on duty all the way down. 

We now discovered that the Confederates, as well 
as ourselves, had in some manner learned our destina- 
tion and were fully prepared. The two forts, Walker 
and Beauregard, were strongly garrisoned and to- 
gether mounted forty-one guns, some of them Eng- 
lish Whitworth rifled cannons, ably manned. Also, 
Commodore Tatnall's Mosquito Fleet had hurried 
down from Savannah to the support of the forts. Al- 
together it looked as if we were not going to have 
quite the easy time we had expected. 

On the evening of the 4th some of the gunboats 
reconnoitering exchanged a few shots with Bay Point 
(Fort Walker), and on the morning of the 5th a slight 
scrimmage with Tatnall occurred, but nothing of any 
consequence. It was decided now to send in the Mer- 
cury, a small beam-engine steamer, to draw the 
fire of the forts, in order that we might calculate the 
number, class, and calibre of the enemy's guns. I went 
aboard the little vessel, as did Generals Sherman, 
Stevens, and Viele, and some of the other officers. 
There was no reticence on the part of the enemy as to 
exposing their strength. They let go at us with a will, 
the shot falling about us merrily. As each gun was 
fired I called its class and calibre, and General Sher- 
man, who stood near me, said: 

" How can you be sure of the size of those shot at 
this distance ? " 

" I am not sure," I said, " but I am used to meas- 
uring objects at sea with my eye, and I judge the 



140 A Sailor of Fortune 

calibre from the ring of smoke that forms the instant 
the gun is fired." 

It may interest the reader to know that later, when 
we landed, my tally was found to be correct. 

We were under fire in the little Mercury for the 
better part of an hour, and while some of the missiles 
passed uncomfortably close, we came out unharmed, 
having acquired full information as to the enemy's 
armament ; also, on my part, some notes for my paper 
and some crude sketches, which I made for Harper's 
Weekly. We now reported to the flagship and a gen- 
eral council of war was held. A chart was spread upon 
the table and everything was prepared to call the meet- 
ing to order, when I rose to leave the cabin. The 
Flag Officer checked me. 

"Where are you going, Mr. Osbon?" he asked. 

I said, " It has occurred to me that this is not the 
place for a newspaper man." 

He replied very courteously, " Pray be seated. You 
are my guest. Besides, you have had considerable 
naval experience, and we may avail ourselves of your 
opinion." 

The conference proceeded, I remaining a silent lis- 
tener until the order of battle was taken up, when I 
suggested in an undertone to Captain John Rodgers, 
who sat beside me, that I thought the order should 
be reversed. 

"Why so?" he asked. 

" Because," I said, " as planned now the principal 
attack will be made with the ships coming down with 
the tide, and in event of any machinery being disabled 
a vessel could not be controlled so readily by the helm 



Among the Wounded 141 

as if she were heading the tide. In the latter case 
with the helm to port the tide itself would swing the 
vessel out of the angle of danger." 

Captain Rodgers, through the Flag Officer, had me 
explain my suggestion to the council. It was adopted 
and the battle line was formed accordingly. 

There was a gale on the 6th of November, which 
made it impossible to attack on that day as originally 
intended. But the morning of the 7th dawned fair 
and lovely, with sky and water wonderfully blue and 
calm. 

At nine o'clock the signal was made for the ad- 
vance. The fleet had been arranged in two divisions, 
the first comprising the Wabash, Susquehanna, Mo- 
hican, Seminole, Pawnee, Unadilla, Ottawa, Pembina, 
and the sloop Vandalia in tow of the Isaac Smith, 
whose armament had been thrown overboard in the 
storm. The other division was composed of the Bien- 
ville, Seneca, Curlew, and Augusta. The Pocahontas, 
R. B. Forbes, Mercury, and Penguin formed a re- 
serve division. The army transports, which were an- 
chored at a safe distance, were covered alow and aloft 
with the troops, who were enforced non-combatants, 
though deeply interested as spectators in the grand 
and novel sight which they were about to witness. 
The other newspaper correspondents were also there, 
for it was my fortune to be the only one that day in 
the line of battle. 

We had other spectators. As the residents of Wash- 
ington had driven out to behold the spectacle of Bull 
Run, so now from Beaufort, Charleston, Savannah, 
and all the country around, a crowd of excursionists 



142 A Sailor of Fortune 

had gathered to witness the destruction of the Yankee 
fleet. Seven large steamers crowded with sightseers 
appeared around the headlands, one of them flying the 
EngHsh, and another the French flag, showing that 
consuls of these nations were aboard. They ranged 
themselves in the wide blue amphitheatre, exactly as 
if we were giving an exhibition for their benefit, and 
certainly on that perfect morning the Port Royal en- 
gagement came as near being a beautiful picture com- 
bat as can be found in all history. 

In fine formation, we steamed up the channel at a 
six-knot gait — the beautiful big Wabash with her 
forty-eight guns leading the way. At exactly 9.26 
an opening gun from Fort Walker was fired, and a 
moment later Fort Beauregard, on the right, pre- 
sented compliments. Then the Wabash opened with 
her ten-inch pivots, and within five minutes we let go 
with our broadsides and the entire fleet was in action. 
Our sightseers were beholding as grand a spectacle 
as the world will ever produce. 

As was usual in those days, our marksmanship was 
far superior to that of the artillerists on shore, and 
while most of our shells landed fairly well, those of 
the Confederates went whizzing over our heads, and 
it was not until we had made it pretty uncomfortable 
for them that they at last secured the range. We had 
begun firing at a distance of about fifteen hundred 
yards, and were soon within eight hundred — a range 
which to-day would be absolutely fatal. Even then it 
was close work; but we drew still closer with each 
turn, until we were within six hundred yards and the 
fire was very hot and dangerous on both sides. Cer- 



Among the Wounded 143 

tainly the enemy stood up in a masterly way, consid- 
ering that they were novices in the art of war. 

Poor Tatnall's little flotilla, however, made but a 
feeble showing. At the opening of the fight he be- 
gan popping away at us from his position at the mouth 
of Skulk Creek; but the range was too long and his 
marksmanship too poor to cause much annoyance. In 
fact, I do not think Flag Officer Dupont even remem- 
bered his existence until I said, " Flag Officer, that fel- 
low over there is firing at us ; can't we do something 
for him ? " But Commodore Tatnall had already de- 
cided that his Mosquito Fleet did not belong in that 
battle, and before a vessel could be sent after him he 
had retired up Skulk Creek to a place of safety. 

A good deal has been made of the fact that Admiral 
Dewey at Manila paused long enough in the midst of 
fighting to withdraw and let his men have breakfast; 
but this was not altogether a new idea. During the 
second round at Port Royal a hawser got afoul of 
our propeller and Flag Officer Dupont, always 
thoughtful, passed the word to give the men a quick 
luncheon, which they ate very willingly, though we 
were then under fire. 

It was about this time that I was wounded — most 
strangely, in the fact that while my wound was disas- 
trous it was wholly painless. The fire of the enemy 
had become exceedingly accurate and the shells were 
bursting all around. With the Flag Officer and his 
staff I was standing on the bridge and our group made 
a pretty target for the gunners on shore. Dupont in 
his polite manner said presently, 

" Gentlemen, I would suggest that some of you 



144 A Sailor of Fortune 

had better leave the bridge. If our friends over there 
should drop a shell among us, v^e might lose some 
valuable officers.'* 

Being the junior and inferior officer of the crowd, 
I retired at once to the spar deck, where a shell came 
through our bulwarks and gave me a severe shake-up. 
Remembering the old adage that lightning never 
strikes twice in the same place, I went to the shattered 
port to look out and to continue my notes of the fight. 
As I leaned over, one of our own guns was fired, and 
the gromet — a wadding of rope yarn — blew back into 
my long whiskers, and in an instant my face was in 
flames. It took me but a second to extinguish the 
conflagration; but it was too late to save even a re- 
spectable remnant of a beard whose glory had excited 
the envy of even the Prince of Wales. I hurried be- 
low, took a pair of shears and trimmed my whiskers 
a la Grant. When I returned to the deck one of the 
officers said to me: 

" Well, sir, where in the devil did you come from'? " 

I saw in a moment that he did not recognise me, 
and I said: 

" I came up from below, sir. My name is Osbon 
of the Wabash, sir." 

The shells were flying about pretty thickly just then 
and it was a poor time to discuss matters, but he 
stared at me for several seconds before he could take 
it in. 

" In the name of heaven what is the matter with 
you ? " he asked. 

" I have been severely wounded," I replied, " in the 
whiskers." 



Among the Wounded i45 

I now hurried aloft and took up a position on the 
bunt of the foresail, where above the smoke I had an 
unobstructed view, and from my lofty perch was en- 
abled to report the enemy's movements to the Flag 
Officer on the bridge. From this point of vantage I 
witnessed one of the rarest of my experiences afloat — 
a mighty duel between two brothers, Thomas and 
Percival Drayton. 

General Thomas Drayton commanded Fort Walker 
and Captain Percival Drayton was in command of 
the Pocahontas of our fleet. The Pocahontas had 
taken up a position on the flank of the fort, where a 
thirty-two pounder was making it decidedly uncom- 
fortable for those on board. The exchange of fire be- 
tween the vessel and the fort was quick and hot, and it 
looked for a time as if the Secession brother on shore 
was going to get the best of it. Then point* by point 
the little Pocahontas worked herself around into posi- 
tion for an enfilading fire, and with a brilliant display 
of marksmanship dismounted the annoying gun of the 
bad brother and drove him and his men helter-skelter 
from their position. Up there on the foresail where I 
could see it all, I whooped and cheered for Percival 
Drayton, whom later with Farragut's fleet at New 
Orleans, I was to know as a near and dear friend, and 
who to-day sleeps in Trinity churchyard. 

With each circling of the forts we drew in closer 
and closer until the distance was narrowed down to 
four hundred yards, and the smaller guns poured in 
upon the enemy a fire that it was hardly possible for 
even the oldest veterans to withstand. Just at this 
juncture I saw the little beam-engine steamer, the 



146 A Sailor of Fortune 

Mercury, slip into a shallow bight within two hundred 
yards of Fort Walker, and lying there almost un- 
noticed in the smoke, begin popping away with her 
thirty-pound Parrot gun at a big Whitworth, which 
was the enemy's most dangerous piece. She was so 
tiny — and her captain had counted on this fact — that 
either the enemy did not see her, or could not hit her 
where she lay. Shot after shot she sent at that Whit- 
worth, then all at once her gunner got the exact aim 
and over went the big gun, to be of no more service 
in that action, whereupon the little Mercury steamed 
away like a victorious bantam rooster, though not be- 
fore she had observed from her close range that the 
Confederates were gathering their belongings in wild 
haste and preparing to desert the fort. The Mercury 
was the first to note this, but a moment later the 
Ottawa signalled the flagship that the enemy was evac- 
uating. 

I had been so busy watching the brilliant exploit 
of the Mercury that I had not observed what was 
happening within the fort, until I was hailed by an 
officer from below who asked me if I had noticed that 
the " Rebs " were " skedaddling," that being a favour- 
ite term for retreat in those days. 

I took one look and shouted back, "Yes, sir, they 
are taking to the woods as fast as their legs can carry 
them. The fort is ours ! " 

A moment later the signal flags from the Wabash 
announced the order " Cease Firing," and the engage- 
ment was at an end. It was five minutes of two when 
the last gun was fired. The battle that gave us Port 
Royal had lasted three and one-half hours. For miles 



Among the Wounded i47 

around the blue water was dotted with wooden shell- 
cases, a record of the thousands of shots fired. 

A whaleboat was now launched from the Wabash, 
and Commander John Rodgers was sent to Fort 
Walker to demand the surrender of the works. I ac- 
companied him, and as the boat touched the gravelly 
beach the men jumped out, and taking Captain Rod- 
gers and myself on their shoulders landed us dryshod 
on the soil of South Carolina. We hurried forward, 
Rodgers with a Union flag under his arm, the boat's 
crew following. 

When we climbed over the works we found no one 
there to surrender them. The ground was strewn 
with belongings of every description, but the place 
was deserted. In another minute the Stars and Stripes 
were flying above Fort Walker, and for miles around 
the air was rent with cheers of the soldiers and sailors 
of the combined fleets. The boys on the transports 
were glad they had come, now. I did not see it, for I 
was not close enough, but I was told they acted like 
mad. Some clapped their hands and shouted " Glory! " 
— some danced and kept on dancing as if they would 
never stop, and nearly all of them broke out into 
Methodist hymns. As for the excursionists, they had 
sailed away as fast as possible, perhaps fearing, like 
our own spectators at Bull Run, that they would all 
be captured and shot at sunrise. 

The troop ships now weighed anchor, and coming 
up the harbour began their work of disembarkation, 
which continued until the last man was on Carolina 
soil, all eager for a view of the works, every man anx- 
ious for some trophy of the victory. There were plenty 



148 A Sailor of Fortune 

of these, for, as our defeated troops had scattered their 
accoutrements at Bull Run, so those who had fled 
from Port Royal had strewn their belongings over the 
meadows, and among them, curiously enough, were 
some of the same knapsacks that our boys had lost at 
the Bull Run disaster. Among other things I found 
an opera glass which had belonged to Thomas Dray- 
ton, and which I afterwards presented to his brother 
Percival. Captain Rodgers found a beautiful Damas- 
cus sword, evidently an heirloom, its hilt studded with 
diamonds. The officer must have been in a great hurry 
who left that behind. I suppose it got between his 
legs and annoyed him as he ran. 

We took possession of Fort Beauregard next morn- 
ing (November 8), it having been likewise aban- 
doned, though somewhat less hastily. I went over 
with Captain Ammen of the Seneca, and we hoisted 
a Union flag above a building that had been used as 
headquarters. We then went over to the camp half a 
mile from the fort, and returning heard an explosion 
which proved to be from a mine under the head- 
quarters building. One of our sailors had stumbled 
over a wire attached to a primer and fired the gun- 
powder left for the purpose of blowing us up when 
we took possession. The unlucky cause of the disaster 
was blown some distance and considerably stunned, 
but was otherwise unhurt. We were all of us very 
careful to look for wires after this incident. 

The casualties on both sides at Port Royal were 
very small, considering the amount of ammunition 
expended and the close ranges. We lost no vessels and 
in our entire fleet but eight men were killed and twen- 



Among the Wounded 149 

ty-three wounded. The Confederate losses were eleven 
killed, forty-eight wounded, four missing. Among 
other things, the fight demonstrated that the old 
theory of one gun in a fort is worth five on board 
ship was a false proposition. To be sure, the sea was 
smooth and we had more experienced gunners, so per- 
haps a conclusion drawn entirely from the Port Royal 
engagement would be equally erroneous. We were 
also ably commanded. Flag Officer Dupont, one of 
the old-time, polished naval officers, was a splendid 
seaman and an up-to-date fighter, admired alike by 
officers and men. In battle he was as cool and clear- 
sighted as anyone I ever saw under fire. Yet at Port 
Royal he was for the first time called upon to direct 
an engagement of magnitude and importance. And 
such it was, for, small as had been the loss of life, an 
action between eighteen vessels and two well-armed 
forts, not to mention Commodore Tatnall's Mosquito 
Fleet, was, in those days at least, a battle of no small 
proportions, while the result gave us what was prob- 
ably the most important naval station of the Civil 
War. To-day our poorest vessel could destroy such 
works in less time than I have taken to tell this story. 
It would begin firing at a range of four miles, and by 
the time it was within hailing distance, forts, enemy, 
and guns would be out of action. But this is an un- 
profitable conclusion, for to-day there would also be 
better fortifications, with better guns. 



XXVII 

I Undertake a Secret Mission for 
Secretary Welles 

I HAVE now reached an incident which I have 
never until this time considered it proper to re- 
late. The story can do no harm now — the inter- 
national distrust of those days is dead, as is, I believe, 
every man in any way concerned in the matter, except 
myself. 

I returned from Port Royal on the Bienville. My 
story of the battle was regarded as a beat by the Her- 
ald. Set in small solid type it filled two pages. My 
sketches for Harper's Weekly also were well received 
and prominently displayed, covering four pages of the 
issue of November 30. At Washington I was wel- 
comed by Secretary Welles, who had not forgotten 
my discovery of the fleet's destination, as you will see. 

There was a good deal of bitterness between Eng- 
land and the Northern States at this time, and the 
Government at Washington was deeply interested in 
the despatches forwarded by the British Minister to 
his Home Government. It was known that England 
was friendly to the Confederacy and willing to aid it 
secretly, if not by open recognition. Under such con- 
ditions, it became necessary to know as much as 
possible of what was passing to and fro between Wash- 
ington and London in the form of cryptograms; and 

150 



A Secret Mission 151 

while most of this matter went by messenger or mail 
to New York, there were many cipher telegrams sent 
at the last moment to catch the outgoing steamer, 
there being no ocean cable at that time. At the tele- 
graph office all such messages were subjected to ex- 
amination and copies of them were made. After a 
brief conversation with Secretary Welles, the old gen- 
tleman brought out one of these cipher copies and 
placing it in my hands said: 

" Mr. Osbon, you have a way of finding out secrets. 
Do you think you can solve that? If you can, it will 
be worth five thousand dollars to you." 

I did not know even the nature of the paper at the 
time, but I saw that it was a cipher made up partly 
of words and partly of a combination of numerals, 
usually in groups of four figures. Something about it 
suggested to me a naval signal book, and the thought 
occurred that perhaps if we had a copy of that used by 
the British service we might unravel the mystery. I 
studied the paper for some time, and the more I con- 
sidered the matter, the more certain I became that the 
British naval signal book would furnish the key. I 
finally informed Mr. Welles that I believed I could 
work the matter out, but that I would need several 
days' leave from my paper; also perfect copies of the 
ciphers. The former I obtained without difficulty, and 
the latter were promptly supplied. With them in an 
inner pocket I left that night for Boston, where a 
British man-of-war was lying. It was my purpose to 
secure her signal book at whatever hazard and by 
whatever means, for in such cases the old adage of 
" All is fair in love and war " holds true. 



152 A Sailor of Fortune 

What I had undertaken to do was a risky business. 
The two nations were at peace, outwardly at least, 
and if my attempt were detected I could expect neither 
mercy from one side nor succour from the other. I 
think, however, I gave this phase of the matter but 
slight consideration. My chief thought was of the sig- 
nal book, and how to get it. 

Arriving at Boston, I promptly used my naval ac- 
quaintance to get introductions to the officers in Her 
Majesty's service, and by a diplomatic course of win- 
ing and dining presently made myself a welcome vis- 
itor on Her Majesty's vessel. Indeed, I soon became 
a favourite with all on board, especially with the sig- 
nal officer, to whom I told my best yarns, often in- 
viting him to a dinner ashore to hear them. Of course, 
this resulted in return invitations, and sometimes it 
happened that when I wished to brush my hair or 
otherwise attend to my toilet I was invited to make 
use of his room for that purpose. 

It was but a brief time before I had located the 
coveted signal book — a tidily bound volume with 
leaden plates riveted to the corners, so that in event 
of capture it could be handily dropped overboard and 
lost. The whole was encased in a canvas bag, sus- 
pended by a shoulder-strap. During my next visit I 
had sufficient opportunity to examine the book for a 
few minutes, and found to my delight that it did, in 
reality, furnish the key I wanted. I had memorised a 
few of the cryptographic words, and with the book 
before me and the signal officer at muster on deck I 
verified my conclusions. The next thing in order was 
to secure this priceless volume. I reasoned that as 



A Secret Mission 153 

there were no other Enghsh vessels nearby, it might 
be weeks before the book would be needed, and that 
if I could remove the contents from the covers, sub- 
stituting them with leaves of the same bulk and ap- 
pearance, there would be a good chance not only to 
get safely clear of the vessel, but for a considerable 
period to elapse before the loss was discovered, by 
which time it would be by no means certain when the 
abstraction had occurred. 

I therefore took careful measurements, and the next 
time I boarded the ship my dummy book was with 
me — a copy of Ray's Arithmetic, if I remember cor- 
rectly — picked up on a secondhand stall. That was a 
foggy night, and I lingered late. When I mentioned 
going ashore, my friend, the signal officer, protested, 
and offered me the use of his room. I had hardly 
dared hope for this stroke of fortune. 

I had plenty of time that night to do the job in a 
neat and workmanlike manner. I was really proud of 
the resemblance the Ray's Arithmetic bore to the sig- 
nal book when it was properly in its neat covers and 
riveted leaden plates. Then, after carefully adjust- 
ing my prize to its new dress, I lay down and slept 
the sleep that comes of well-doing and a clear con- 
science. 

I did not hurry away next morning — that would 
not do. I even lingered a little, and finally bade them 
all good-bye, with a good deal of regret I must own, 
for they were jolly fellows. 

Arriving on shore, I lost no time in getting a train 
for the Capital, and once aboard the strain told on 
me, for I had been keyed to a pretty high pitch dur- 



154 A Sailor of Fortune 

ing those days in Boston, and I dozed and slept most 
of the day and all that night without a break. 

But I was at the Department next morning, bright 
and early, and when the Secretary had glanced over 
his mail he sent for rne to come to his private office. 

" Well, Mr. Osbon," he said, " you have made a 
long stay. Have you been able to read those telegrams 
yet?" 

I drew up a chair beside him, and pulling out a 
cipher of over one hundred and fifty words, read to 
him a well connected, perfectly intelligible, highly in- 
teresting and important communication from the Brit- 
ish Minister to the Home Secretary. I followed this 
with three or four other messages of a like tenor. 
Secretary Welles for a moment said nothing at all, 
but I could see that he was amazed. Presently he 
seized my hand and said. 

" Where in heaven's name did you get the key ? 
Tell me all about it." 

" Mr. Welles," I said, '' I think it is as well for the 
present that you should not know. Some trouble may 
come out of it, and it is better that you, as a govern- 
ment official, should be in a position to know nothing." 

The Secretary agreed to this readily enough, and I 
went away with a bundle of the Minister's messages, 
all of which I translated in due season. Somewhat 
later I placed the signal book itself in the Secretary's 
hands. He had promised me five thousand dollars for 
the solution, to say nothing of the key itself. No word 
of the payment had been mentioned since my return, 
and I was to have a little joke at his expense. 

" Mr. Secretary," I said, " I was to have five thou- 



A Secret Mission 155 

sand dollars to decipher those telegrams — and no men- 
tion was made of the key in our bargain. I suppose 
that will be extra." 

He laughed and said, " You are right. Name your 
price, and we'll see if it is fair." 

" Mr. Welles," I said, " I do not want any compen- 
sation whatever for a job like that. What I did was 
for the sake of the nation. Nothing else could justify 
it. All I ask of this Government is that they stand at 
my back and save my neck, in case of trouble." 

But trouble never came. It is more than likely that 
the loss of the signal book was not discovered by the 
English officer for months, and then in some foreign 
port. I have no idea that I was ever connected with 
the matter, or that anybody on the vessel, except the 
signal officer, ever knew that the book had been taken. 
It is easy to imagine that he would not care to confess 
his loss, and that he might make it convenient to 
stumble near the rail, and so by " accident " let the 
little tidily-bound, lead-covered Ray's Arithmetic slip 
into the ocean that holds so many secrets in its fathom- 
less bosom. My conscience has never troubled me for 
the part I played, for, as I have said, it was not for 
gain but to outwit a secret enemy, and for a nation 
which I had been always eager to serve, and was still 
to serve to the best of my limited ability, as we 
shall see. 



XXVIII 

Some Journalistic Adventures 

IT was during November, 1861, that I made a 
journalistic attempt which resulted somewhat 
less gloriously than those undertaken hitherto. 
On the 7th, the day of our bombardment of Port 
Royal, James M. Mason, of Virginia, and John Sli- 
dell, of Louisiana, Confederate envoys to Great Britain 
and France, embarked on the English mail steamer 
Trent, at Havana. On the next day the United States 
steamship San Jacinto, Captain Wilkes, overhauled 
the Trent in the Bahama channel and forcibly re- 
moved Mason and Slidell as prisoners of war. The 
affair being immediately reported on both sides of the 
water, great excitement ensued. The feeling between 
England and America became more bitter. England 
made many stormy threats, though Captain Wilkes 
had only followed a British precedent, exactly as laid 
down. The final result was an adjustment of rights 
and privileges between the two nations, and a better 
understanding all around, but as this is everybody's 
history I need not continue the general details. 

My chief interest in the matter was to make news 
of it for my paper. The San Jacinto, with the pris- 
oners, was on the way to Fort Warren, in Boston 
Harbour, and it was Mr. Hudson's request that I 

156 



Some Journalistic Adventures 157 

meet the vessel and interview Captain Wilkes. Also, 
if possible, Messrs. Mason and Slidell. 

Now there were strict orders that no correspondent 
should enter Fort Warren, and I knew the chances 
were against my success. Nevertheless I proceeded to 
Boston, and asked Captain William L. Hudson, Com- 
mandant of the navy yard, to give me a letter of 
introduction to Captain Wilkes, whom he knew. This 
he did willingly enough, and armed with the official 
looking envelope, I boldly proceeded to Fort Warren 
and announced that I had a letter for Captain Wilkes 
to be delivered on arrival, leaving them to infer, if 
they wished to do so, that it was as official as it out- 
wardly appeared. My mission was harmless enough 
and I had told no untruth, but I must admit that to 
some extent I had concealed the truth, and I suppose 
I was punished accordingly. 

No one in Fort Warren suspected my errand there, 
or anything out of the way, and for a few days I was 
an honoured guest. But then, all of a sudden, there 
appeared a sergeant of artillery who had met me at 
Fortress Monroe. He was a pleasant fellow and very 
kindly remembered me. He said nothing to me of my 
vocation, but I knew he remembered that, too. I knew 
that he guessed my errand in Fort Warren, and that 
he would do his duty in reporting the matter to the 
commandant, who would likewise do his duty in de- 
taining me indefinitely when I got ready to go. It was 
a pleasant place, but I did not wish to remain there 
permanently. I wanted to go away from it. I had 
lost interest in Mason and Slidell and I wanted to go 
now, immediately, before the San Jacinto arrived. The 



158 A Sailor of Fortune 

officers themselves gave me no hint of coming trou- 
ble, but one of their servants, a friendly fellow, very 
quietly told me what would happen. They were in no 
hurry to take me in charge. Fort Warren being lo- 
cated on an island, with plenty of guards, it was not 
thought probable that I could reach the mainland. 

Yet this was what I decided to do. The morning 
after my interview with the kindly disposed servant 
I went for a walk on the beach. It was blowing a 
living gale of wind, and nobody but a fool or a sailor 
would attempt to cross the harbour in a small boat on 
such a day. To me, however, the only difficulty was in 
being permitted to try. A little dory was lying on the 
beach, and I asked the sentinel who was parading up 
and down if he objected to my taking a little pull to 
stretch my arms. He did not object, but he thought 
I would soon get my fill of it. I carried an umbrella, 
as it had been showery, and with this I got into the 
boat. Then I pulled up and down a few times in the 
rough water, edging out farther with each tack, until 
finally, when I thought it the proper moment, I 
squared away, hoisted my umbrella as a sail, and with 
an oar for a rudder bade Fort Warren good-bye. 

The sentinel, seeing this, evidently suspected that 
something was wrong, and must immediately have 
passed the word to the officers, who doubtless returned 
orders to fire, for in a minute or two he levelled his 
musket, and a bullet struck the water, though some 
distance away. I decided that he was a poor shot and 
that I would go on. Besides, I had always been bullet- 
proof and had faith in my lucky star. The only ques- 
tion was whether I could pull faster than the umbrella 



Some Journalistic Adventures 159 

would propel me. I concluded to stick to the umbrella, 
for the wind was very strong out there and I was 
making good headway. 

Meantime the sentinel had been joined by several 
companions-in-arms, and they now let loose a volley 
at me, then another and another. But perhaps they 
were recruits, for their aim was poor and by this 
time the range was long. The little dory fairly 
skimmed the waves, and more than half the time there 
were great billows between me and the shore, and it 
may be that these kept some of the balls from hitting 
me. At all events, the firing presently ceased and I 
made the passage across without further interference, 
folded my faithful umbrella, left the dory at the navy 
yard, and took the first train for New York, where, 
with a good deal of humiliation, I confessed to Mr. 
Hudson that Mason and Slidell would have to be re- 
ceived at Fort Warren without my assistance. 

I was to have better success with my next adventur- 
ous attempt. The Confederates, who were still in pos- 
session of Norfolk, had raised a sunken vessel, the 
Merrimac, at the Gosport Navy yard, and converted 
her into the ironclad which later was to become such 
a terror to our navy at Hampton Roads. Reports of 
the construction of this vessel had come to the North, 
and there was a great desire on the part of everybody 
to know something of her plan and appearance. I was 
perfectly familiar with all the waters of Hampton 
Roads, and went down to Fortress Monroe to see what 
could be done in the matter. Arriving there, I decided 
I would have a look at the Merrimac on my own ac- 
count, even at the risk of a punctured skin. 



i6o A Sailor of Fortune 

I therefore wrote to Mr. Hudson my plan, asking 
him to send me down a sixteen-foot Hell Gate pilot- 
boat, such as was used for boarding vessels in Long 
Island Sound. Mr. Hudson was a man of prompt ac- 
tion. The boat came almost immediately, and one 
night when a light fog lay on the river I made up my 
mind to undertake the job planned. 

I prepared for the occasion by covering my thole- 
pins with sheepskin in order to make no noise with 
my oars. Then with a compass and a lead line in the 
boat I pulled softly across past the Sewell Point bat- 
teries, which would have given me a lively time had 
they seen me, up around Crainey Island^ — on up the 
Elizabeth River to the Gosport Yard, where the Mer- 
rimac lay. I expected to have to get very close to the 
vessel before I could get a look at her, but the fog 
had lightened a good deal by the time I was in her 
neighbourhood and the night was not dark. When 
within a hundred yards of her I had an excellent view 
of the monster which was so soon to descend upon our 
fleet of wooden vessels then lying in Hampton Roads. 

I fixed her outlines and proportions in my mind and 
returning undiscovered wrote a description of her for 
the Herald, and made a sketch for Harper's Weekly. 
I also reported the matter to General Wool, com- 
mander of the troops at Fortress Monroe — a friend 
from childhood. I did not report to Commodore 
Goldsborough, in command of the fleet, for I must 
say that, in common with a good many others who 
were on the ground, I could muster no great admira- 
tion for this oflicer. I do not presume to question his 
bravery, but certainly his policy of delay and discre- 



Some Journalistic Adventures i6i 

tion was not of a sort to awaken enthusiasm in any 
quarter.* 

Having found the vessel to be comparatively easy 
of access, I proposed to General Wool that I would 
lead a boarding party to capture and destroy her. 
That was the sort of work I knew best, and nothing 
would have given me greater joy than to have gone 
up there on a dark night with a band of good fellows 
for a lively hand-to-hand bout of the old-fashioned 
kind. I believe we would have been successful, too, 
but General Wool would not give his consent, for the 
reason, as he said, that Goldsborough would regard 
it as a trespass on his special field of action. I had by 
this time become very tired of the monotonous routine 
of Fortress Monroe, and was only too glad that an 
opportunity now presented itself for more congenial 
service both to my paper and my country. 

* On March 8, 1862, the Merrimac destroyed the Congress and 
the Cumberland, and it was expected she would annihilate the 
rest of the fleet next morning. The little Monitor, commanded 
by John L. Worden, arrived that night, and March 9, 1862, 
checked the Merrimac in her work of destruction and drove her 
back, crippled and defeated, to her lair beyond Crainey Island. 
Yet even after this, she still remained a menace, and had only 
to show herself in the channel to cause the direst commotion 
in the neighbourhood of Commodore Goldsborough's fleet. 



XXIX 

An Expedition Against New Orleans 

I HAVE now reached the beginning of what is to 
me the most remarkable portion of my history — 
indeed, of any story of naval warfare. I refer to 
the successful passage of the forts below New Orleans 
by the Federal fleet under Flag Officer David Glasgow 
Farragut on the 24th of April, 1862. 

During the latter part of 1861 Commander David 
D. Porter had urged upon President Lincoln the neces- 
sity of capturing New Orleans as an important step 
in weakening the Confederacy by cutting it in half, 
as it were, and closing one of its chief ports of sup- 
plies. The original plan was to reduce Forts Jackson 
and St. Philip, two strongholds built on opposite 
banks of the Mississippi, about sixty miles below New 
Orleans, with a fleet of mortar boats, in order that a 
land force might ascend the river and occupy the city. 
Commander Porter had full confidence in the effec- 
tiveness of mortar fire, and a fleet of bomb-vessels — 
consisting of twenty-two small schooners, each carrying 
one 13-inch mortar, and from two to four thirty- 
two pound guns for defence — was eventually organ- 
ised, with a land force of about fifteen thousand men 
under command of General Benjamin F. Butler of 
Massachusetts. There was also to be a small fleet of 
tugs and armed steamers to tow and protect the mor- 

162 



Expedition against New Orleans 163 

tar fleet, and of these the Harriet Lane, which has 
already appeared twice in these annals — once in the 
service of the Prince of Wales, and again in the ex- 
pedition against Sumter — ^was to carry* the flag.* 

But as the expedition began to materialise, the 
original plan was amplified, and a feature was added 
without which its success would have been extremely 
doubtful. A powerful fleet of war vessels was or- 
ganised for the purpose of running by the forts, in 
event of the mortars failing to accomplish all that 
Porter had predicted. 

As had been the case with former expeditions, the 
plan and purpose of this one were at first kept secret 
by the Department; but as it had been found that I 

*The Harriet Lane does not appear in these pages after the 
New Orleans episode. Her subsequent career was eventful. She 
assisted in the attack on the Vicksburg batteries, June 28th, 1862, 
assisted in capturing Galveston, Texas, October 9th, 1862, and 
was captured by boarding parties in Galveston Harbor, January 
1st, 1863, Commander Wainwright and Lieutenant-Commander 
Lee being killed. She then became a blockade runner, and at 
the close of the war was converted into a sailing vessel. Her 
end was unknown to the writer until these papers appeared 
in magazine form, when the following interesting letter was 

received. 

San Francisco, Cal., Feb. 14, 1906. 

Dear Sir:— Your footnote concerning the Harriet Lane, in 
your story "A Sailor of Fortune,** now running in Pearson's 
Magazine, has led me to write you as follows: 

On or about April loth, 1884, the British ship Galgate left 
Liverpool, England, bound for Sidney, N. S. W. 

While on the voyage, and about fifty miles off the coast of 
Pernambuco, a vessel was sighted flying signals of distress. The 
Galgate hove to and put out a boat. On boarding the bark she 
was discovered to be the George P. Ritchie, lumber laden from 
Brunswick, Georgia, formerly the gunboat Harriet Lane. She 



164 A Sailor of Fortune 

did not "leak " information, perhaps, also, because 
of services rendered, I received an inkling of what 
was in progress, and one morning in December, 1861, 
I applied to Commander Porter for an appointment 
as his secretary and fleet signal officer, with the privi- 
lege of continuing my newspaper work. My offer was 
promptly accepted, and I was ordered to report on 
board the Harriet Lane when the fleet was ready to 
sail. 

But with the alteration and enlargement of Por- 
ter's idea there appeared a new commander — one 
whose name shall forever rank with those of the great- 
est naval heroes in history. 

Captain David G. Farragut had recently been re- 
lieved of his command of the Brooklyn, and had re- 
was barely afloat, the crew having been at the pumps for twenty- 
nine days and the captain having broken his arm. 

We took off the crew of six men, including the captain. Then 
we returned, and having sprinkled kerosene all over her set her 
afire. That night the Galgate met several steamers, doubtless 
attracted by the blazing ship, and we put the crew aboard one of 
them. 

The water-logged vessel belonged to the United States, and I, 
being the only American aboard the English ship, was naturally 
curious, and the information connecting the George P. Ritchie 
with the Harriet Lane was given me by the captain. The only 
boat aboard was a little skiff capable of holding not more than 
two persons, and being lumber laden was the reason they had 
stuck to her. The only thing outside the crew we rescued was a 
piano, which we got out by chopping through the deck. 

The agents of the Galgate are or were Balfour, Williamson & 
Co., of James Street, Liverpool, England. 

The writer was a seaman aboard the Galgate. 

Respectfully, 

J. A. Simpson. 

1705 Baker Street, San Francisco, Cal. 



Expedition against New Orleans 165 

tired to his home at Norfolk, Virginia, only to leave 
it for the reason that he was told that men of his 
views could not remain residents of that disloyal city. 

" Well, then I can live elsewhere," was Farragut's 
reply, and he removed with his little family to Hast- 
ings-on-the-Hudson, to await the time when his 
country should need his services. The time had now 
come. Farragut had served under Porter's father, 
and as a boy of eleven had been with him on the 
Essex in a terrible fight off Valparaiso. The younger 
men had always been friends, and Commander Por- 
ter now suggested to the Department that Farragut 
be placed in command of the squadron of the expedi- 
tion as senior or flag officer, himself to retain the 
mortar flotilla, subject to Farragut's orders. 

It was on the morning of January 9th, 1862, that 
Farragut was ordered to report to Commodore Pen- 
dergast at Philadelphia and to hoist his flag on the 
fine sloop of war Hartford. Eleven days later he re- 
ceived from Secretary Welles explicit instructions as 
to his movements,* and it was on the same day, Janu- 

* Navy Department, January 20th, 1862. 

Sir: When the Hartford is in all respects ready for sea, 
you will proceed to the Gulf of Mexico, with all possible despatch, 
and communicate with Flag Officer W. W. McKean, who is 
directed by the enclosed despatch to transfer to you the command 
of the Western Gulf Blockading Squadron. . . . 

There will be attached to your squadron a fleet of bomb- 
vessels, and armed steamers enough to manage them, all under 
command of Commander David D. Porter, who will be directed 
to report to you. As fast as these vessels are got ready they 
will be sent to Key West to await the arrival of all, and the 
commanding officers, who will be permitted to organise and prac- 
tise them at that port. 



1 66 A Sailor of Fortune 

ary 20th, that I learned details of these things from 
Commander Porter himself, then at the Brooklyn 
Navy yard, on board the Harriet Lane. As Porter 
unfolded the new plan I began to fear that my hope 
of being in the front of activity was not likely to be 
realised. A mortar flotilla, however noisy, would be a 
comparatively quiet place when real battle with broad- 
sides at close range, and ramming and boarding par- 
ties, might be going on not far away. I suppose he 
saw my rueful look, for he said : 

" Look here, you'd better go with David. You'll 
have more fun and get more news with him. I'll give 
you a letter, and if he doesn't want you, come with 
me, anyhow." 

When these formidable mortars arrive, and you are completely 
ready, you will collect such vessels as can be spared from the 
blockade and proceed up the Mississippi River, and reduce the 
defences which guard the approaches to New Orleans, when 
you will appear off that city and take possession of it under the 
guns of your squadron, and hoist the American Flag therein, 
keeping possession until troops can be sent to you. ... As 
you have expressed yourself perfectly satisfied with the force 
given to you, and as many more powerful vessels will be added 
before you can commence operations, the Department and the 
country will require of you success. . . . There are other 
operations of minor importance which will commend themselves 
to your judgment and skill, but which must not be allowed to 
interfere with the great object in view — ^the certain capture of 
the city of New Orleans. 

Destroy the armed barriers which these deluded people have 
raised up against the power of the United States Government, 
and shoot down those who war against the Union; but cultivate 
with cordiality the first returning reason, which is sure to follow 
your success. Respectfully, etc., 

Gideon Welles. 
To Flag OMcer D. G. Farragut, 

Appointed to command Western Gulf Blockading Squadron. 



Expedition against New Orleans 167 

He wrote the letter at once, and with it in my 
pocket I caught the first train for Philadelphia. I 
found Farragut at the Continental Hotel, where he 
had just finished dinner, and as he read my letter I 
mentally took his measure, and felt at once I would 
accept any position that such a man might offer me. 

The letter was of considerable length and he read 
it carefully. When he had finished he turned to me 
and said: 

" Mr. Osbon, I am glad to meet you and should be 
pleased to have you in the flagship. But I can tender 
you only the position of clerk, as I have already ap- 
pointed my secretary. The clerkship pays a salary of 
fifty dollars per month." 

I did not hesitate. 

" Thank you," I said, " I shall be only too happy 
to accept, and I shall do my best to fill the place." 

Without further ado he called his secretary and or- 
dered him to make out my appointment, which read 
as follows: 

Philadelphia, Jan. 20th, 1862. 
Sir: You are hereby appointed Clerk to Flag Officer of the 
Western Gulf Blockading Squadron, and will report to Com- 
mander Wainwright, who will assign you quarters. 

Yours very respectfully, 

D. G. Farragut, 

Flag Officer. 
To Mr. B. S. Osbon, New York City. 

Our entire interview did not last twenty minutes. 
My appointment in my pocket, I hurried to New 
York for my dunnage, and caught a train back to 
Philadelphia the following morning. But our flag- 



1 68 A Sailor of Fortune 

ship, the Hartford, had dropped down to Newcastle, 
for the ice was then very heavy in the Delaware, and 
there was danger of being frozen in. It required sev- 
eral days to fill our magazines from Fort Mifflin, but 
on the 2d of February we finally left Hampton Roads 
for the South, touching at Port Royal, where, three 
months before, with Dupont, on the Wahash, I had 
witnessed the reduction of Forts Walker and Beaure- 
gard, as already recorded. 

The squadron was ordered to assemble off Key 
West, and we saw none of our vessels on the way 
down. Some were to come from Boston, others from 
New York^ one from the West Indies, and whatever 
could be spared from the fleet already doing duty off 
the mouth of the Mississippi. Though a good portion 
of them were little gunboats, most of them were serv- 
iceable vessels, and with Commander Porter's bomb 
flotilla would constitute a formidable array. Our flag- 
ship, the Hartford, was one of the finest vessels of her 
class — a screw ship of nineteen hundred and ninety 
tons register, two hundred and twenty-five feet long, 
with a complement of twenty-two nine-inch Dahlgren 
and two twenty-pound Parrot guns, with a Sawyer rifle 
on the forecastle. She also had howitzers mounted in 
the fore- and maintops, protected by boiler-iron, this be- 
ing Farragut's invention and, I believe, the first form 
of fighting top. 

It was the 6th of February when we left Port Royal, 
and the nth when we reached Key West, where a 
number of our vessels were already assembled and a 
portion of the mortar flotilla, the latter being towed 
by powerful tugs to our final rendezvous off Ship 



Expedition against New Orleans 169 

Island. I had seen very little of Farragut on the way 
down. He was suffering from a cold, and there had 
been no clerical work to do. In fact, my acquaintance 
was chiefly confined to the engineers' mess, of which 
I was a member, for the wardroom officers were in- 
clined to avoid a correspondent, fearing, as they after- 
ward confessed, that I would make copy of their every 
word and act. 

But one afternoon Fleet Surgeon J. M. Foltz came 
to where I was leaning over the rail and said : 

" Mr. Osbon, your face is very familiar to me. 
Were you not in the Argentine navy under Commo- 
dore Coe, and did you not command the Veinte-Cinco 
deMayof" 

I confessed that this was true. 

" Well, then," he went on, " don't you remember 
me as the surgeon of the United States sloop of war 
Jamestown? " 

I recalled him immediately, and we reviewed the 
brisk days at Buenos Ay res of five or six years before. 
Later in the afternoon a messenger brought word that 
the Flag Officer desired to see me in his cabin. It was 
the first time he had summoned me, and I responded 
without delay. 

I found him alone in his cabin, and as I entered he 
extended his hand in a cordial greeting. 

" Mr. Osbon," he said, " I suppose you think I 
have forgotten that you are my clerk, but as a mat- 
ter of fact I have not needed to call on you. I under- 
stood that you were comfortable, considering the 
crowded condition of the vessel, and I have not been 
well, as you know." 



I/O A Sailor of Fortune 

I thanked the Flag Officer and assured him that I 
was perfectly comfortable. 

" By the way," he added, " you never told me that 
you had seen active naval service, and Porter did not 
mention it in his letter. Now, Dr. Foltz tells me that 
he knew you in the Argentine Navy, and that you 
commanded a famous little vessel. You should have 
told me of this, as I need to know every man's quali- 
fications and experience, especially when it concerns 
my personal staff. Sit down, please, and tell me all 
about your naval service. Dr. Foltz has told me a 
good deal, but I want to hear it from your own 
lips." 

For nearly two hours we talked there in the cabin, 
and I told him the whole story, beginning with the 
Anglo-Chinese warfare, and ending with the Port 
Royal engagement, three months before. I have never 
had a more attentive or appreciative listener. When 
I left him that evening he had become more than 
ever my ideal of a commanding officer. 

From that day I breathed a new atmosphere. I was 
one of the very few men on the vessel who had smelled 
powder in action, and the wardroom cultivated my 
acquaintance. I may add that my admiration for Far- 
ragut grew with each passing day, and when one day 
I saw him handle the vessel under canvas my respect 
for him as a sailor was unbounded. Not long after 
he said to me, 

" Mr. Osbon, I understand you are a signal officer, 
and as Mr. Watson * has his hands full, I would like 

* Lieutenant John Crittenden Watson — at thh writing, rear 
admiral, retired, United States Navy. 



Expedition against New Orleans 171 

you to take charge of the signals as signal officer 
of the fleet." 

No duty could have been more congenial to my tastes 
or more suited to my position as correspondent. It 
brought me into the closest touch with the Flag 
Officer, and gave me the most intimate knowledge of 
every movement of the fleet. I thankfully accepted 
the task, and from that day until we were safely at 
New Orleans, made every signal that controlled the 
Western Gulf Blockading Squadron, as Flag Officer 
Farragut's command was called. 



XXX 

(With Farragut under Trying Conditions 

l4 FTER filling her coal bunkers at Key West, the 
L\^ Hartford crossed over to Havana, v^here lay 
JL -A. the allied fleets of England, France, and Spain, 
assembled for the purpose of compelling the payment 
of Mexican obligations, and with the ulterior design 
on the part of France of placing the Austrian prince, 
Maximilian, on the Mexican throne. There were also 
in the harbour a number of Confederate vessels, wait- 
ing for a chance to run the blockade, and it was to 
observe conditions there, and to consult with our Con- 
sul General, that we put in at this port. 

Owing to the general unfriendliness of the place, 
our Flag Officer had very little respect for the Span- 
ish authorities and small regard for their customs. It 
was after dark when we arrived off Morro Castle, 
and though the regulations of those days did not per- 
mit vessels to enter the harbour between sunset and 
sunrise, we steamed boldly in. 

When hailed, " Who are you ? " Farragut raised his 
speaking trumpet to his lips and answered: 

" United States flagship Hartford, from Key West, 
bound for Havana Harbour. 

"Louder! Louder!" cried the voice, as before, in 
Spanish. 

172 



With Farragut i73 

Farragut again raised his speaking trumpet, but im- 
mediately lowered it with an impatient gesture. 

" Here, Mr. Osbon," he said, extending the trum- 
pet, " take this. Tell that fellow we are the United 
States flag ship Hartford. Tell him we're from Key 
West, bound for Havana Harbour, and that we're go- 
ing in to-night." 

" Give her four bells, Captain Wainwright," he 
added grimly, and this meant full speed ahead. 

He told me afterward that if fired on he intended to 
run in, despite the Spanish guns, to show our contempt 
for a nation that would shelter an enemy's vessels. 
Still, he was courteous enough next day, and we burnt 
a good deal of powder in salutes for the Governor 
General, and for various Commanders of the allied 
fleets. 

But it was only a formal cordiality, for there was 
not a ship in that assemblage that would not gladly 
have sent us to the bottom of the sea, and, what was 
still worse, there were those other vessels about us 
flying the Stars and Bars. I wondered how Farra- 
gut could remain so calm under such irritating con- 
ditions, and respond courteously to compliments so 
evidently insincere that they were little short of 
insult. 

When at last we were happily at sea again, he 
turned to Fleet Captain H. H. Bell and drew a long 
breath. 

"Well, thank God!" he said. "I'm more than 
pleased to be out of that infernal hole. I've been mad 
clear through all day, and if it were not for the work 
ahead, nothing would suit me better than to go in 



174 A Sailor of Fortune 

among those fellows and give them a dose of nine- 
inch shells. We may have to do it yet before this war 
is over." 

We shaped our course now for Ship Island, arriv- 
ing there on the evening of February 20th, and on the 
following morning Farragut assumed entire control 
of the assembled fleets, relieving Flag Officer W. W. 
McKean, who had previously been in command of 
the blockading squadron. We had bad weather at 
Ship Island and were delayed there until the 7th of 
March. But on the evening of that day the Hartford 
was off Pass I'Outre of the Mississippi delta, and then 
began the tedious attempt to get the larger vessels 
over the bar. 

Finally, on the nth of March, we steamed around 
to Southwest Pass, and on the 13th crossed the bar 
and anchored of Pilot Town. Next morning Lieu- 
tenant (now Rear-Admiral) Albert Kautz, Lieuten- 
ant John L. Broome of the Marine Corps, with myself 
and thirty marines landed and hoisted over the look- 
out tower the first Union flag planted to stay on the 
soil of Louisiana. The Confederate pilots had fled up 
the river, and only a few loyal men and women re- 
mained at the place. 

On the 15th of March the Hartford steamed up to 
the head of the Passes, where the Brooklyn (which 
had been worked across the bar with great difficulty) 
and three gunboats were already lying. 

Now came nearly a month of tedious delay incident 
to getting the larger ships over the bar at Southwest 
Pass. The Pensacola and Mississippi were dragged 
over with great effort, the latter cutting through two 



With Farragut 175 

feet of soft mud. Finally, on April 8th, Farragut was 
able to report with great satisfaction that all were over 
but the Colorado, it having been found impossible to 
lighten this vessel sufficiently to make the passage. 
This was a great disappointment, for the Colorado 
was a splendid ship, and her commander, Captain 
Theodorus Bailey, second in rank to Farragut him- 
self, was one of the bravest men and ablest fighters 
that ever set foot on a man-of-war. Captain Bailey 
did not abandon the expedition, however, but came 
up with a number of his crew and eventually was 
given a place of great honour, as we shall see. Com- 
mander Porter's mortar flotilla had arrived safely and 
the little vessels were moving up in readiness to take 
their positions. General Butler and his troops were at 
Ship Island, and matters were rapidly shaping them- 
selves for the first attack upon the forts. 

In the meantime I had been given an opportunity to 
observe something of our enemy's preparations, as 
well as of their target practice. On March 28th Flag 
Officer Farragut asked me to accompany Fleet Cap- 
tain Bell on a reconnaissance of the forts, and with 
the gunboats Kennebec and Wissahickon we went up 
the river to " draw the fire," in order that we might 
make some estimate of the enemy's armament and re- 
sources. Captain Bell and I were on board the Kenne- 
bec, and I must say that we succeeded in getting the 
warmest kind of a reception. 

Fort Jackson on the left was nearer to us, but Fort 
St. Philip, on the east shore, being just on the bend, 
had a clear range down the river. The shots from both 
fell all around us and we realised that to pass between 



176 A Sailor of Fortune 

those two well armed and ably manned works at a 
perfectly point-blank range was going to be a task to 
try men's souls. In 181 5 Fort Jackson alone had held 
the entire British fleet in check for nine days, though 
they had thrown into it more than one thousand shells. 
Now, there were two forts instead of one, and each 
of them far stronger and better armed than the old 
works. 

Just below Fort Jackson there was a barrier in the 
shape of a chain supported by a log raft and eight 
schooner hulks, anchored abreast. This, also, must be 
overcome before our vessels could even attempt a pas- 
sage, and to sever it would be a work requiring not 
only skill but bravery, for it would have to be done 
directly under the fire of both forts. Fort Jackson, be- 
ing on the lower side of the bend, had a better com- 
mand of the river above, but the woods just below 
the fort had been cleared away so that she could sweep 
downstream, too. 

Altogether there was rough work ahead, and when 
a French and an English gunboat, which had been per- 
mitted to go to New Orleans in the interest of their 
countrymen, came down and reported that it was abso- 
lutely impossible for a fleet of wooden vessels to with- 
stand the fire of forts, water-batteries, gunboats, and 
ironclads that awaited us — that to undci-take the pas- 
sage meant certain annihilation of our fleet — I fear 
there were one or two wavering hearts among the 
men who heard the tale. But if so, they made no sign, 
and as for Farragut he quietly regarded the foreign 
commanders who so eagerly made this discouraging 
report, and said very gravely : 



With Farragut 177 

" Well, gentlemen, my orders are to pass the forts 
and capture the city of New Orleans. It is my inten- 
tion to obey those orders, and with the help of God 
I have no doubt I shall be able to reach the city. I 
shall lose some men and possibly some ships, but I do 
not anticipate a great loss of either. My prayer is they 
will be few." 

His tone was very gentle, but solemn, and made a 
profound impression on everyone present. It seemed 
to breathe at once absolute self-reliance, confidence 
in his commanding officers and crews, knowledge of 
the weak points of his enemy, an unfaltering faith in 
a Divine Providence, and a full determination to obey 
his orders from the Department.* 

It was during our reconnaissance of the 28th that I 
made a sketch of a water-battery which I had observed 
lying below Fort Jackson. On our return Captain Bell 
made his report, and later I was summoned for mine. 
I told the Flag Officer what I had seen and showed my 
sketches. When he noticed my drawing of the water- 
battery he at once sent for Captain Bell. 

" Mr. Osbon has here a sketch of a water-battery 
which you failed to report," he said. " How is that? " 

Bell was puzzled and a little nettled. 

*' I believe I have as good eyes as Mr. Osbon," he 
insisted, " and I saw nothing of the kind." 

* " I have now attained what I have been looking for all my 
life," wrote Farragut in a letter home, " a flag — and having at- 
tained it, all that is necessary to complete the scene, is victory. 
If I die in the attempt, it will only be what every officer has to 
expect. He who dies in doing his duty to his country, and at 
peace with his God, has played out the drama of life to the best 
advantage," 



178 A Sailor of Fortune 

" Well," said Farragut, " we'll take another look 
to-morrow morning and I'll see what I can see." 

We were off next morning at nine o'clock on the 
Iroquois, whose commander, gallant John De Camp, 
soon put her where we could get a full view of the 
works. The Flag Officer and Captain Bell seated them- 
selves on the fore yard for observation, and in the 
shower of iron that dropped around us came very 
near being struck by a shell from the very water- 
battery that Captain Bell had failed to see the day 
before. The Iroquois was a bigger target than the 
Kennebec, but once more we came out untouched, 
though a number of the shots came very close indeed. 
Nothing disturbed Farragut. He was as calm and 
placid as an onlooker at a mimic battle. The shell that 
nearly ended his life was scarcely noticed. He would 
have remained longer on observation, but for the sug- 
gestion from Captain Bell that the situation was need- 
lessly dangerous. No precaution of any sort was taken 
because of the Flag Officer^s presence, except that the 
vessel did not hoist his blue flag. It was the first time 
I had seen Farragut under fire. He was my idol as a 
man, an officer and a hero from that hour. 

There came a period now that was hard on the 
nerves of officers and crew. Commander Porter got 
his mortar fleet in position, and on April 18 opened 
fire with his thirteen-inch shells. His vessels were 
small and made a pretty show as they filed by, for he 
had their masts and rigging covered with tree branches, 
so that it was almost impossible for the enemy to see 
them when they were ranged along the shore. All day 
and night the air was rent with the deafening roar of 



With Farragut 179 

those mortars and the reply of the enemy's guns. 
Neither side appeared to be able to do much damage, 
though the Fort Jackson citadel was set on fire the 
first day and one of the enemy's heavy guns dis- 
mounted. On the mortar fleet a man was killed by a 
shot and later a vessel was sunk, the latter without 
loss of life. At times the gunboats went up to create 
a diversion, and their hot fire drove the enemy from 
the parapets, though this only caused a redoubled fire 
from the heavy casemate guns. It was rather slow 
work for the rest of us, lying as we did some three 
thousand yards below the forts, out of range except 
for an occasional accelerating shell which dropped 
here and there, once causing the Hartford to shift 
position. 

Yet we were by no means idle. Daily in the cabin 
of the Hartford there was a council of all the com- 
manding officers, where the situation was discussed 
from every possible point of view, and where every 
suggestion was carefully considered, and if found 
worthy was put into effect. Through the inspiration 
of Engineer Moore of the Richmond, our chain-cables 
were arranged on the outside of the vessels immedi- 
ately over the engines and boilers, and made an ex- 
cellent protection. Another idea was to whitewash the 
decks, so that in the dark — for it had been decided 
that we would run the forts in the night — rammers 
and other dark objects could be more easily distin- 
guished. A third plan was to paint the outside of the 
vessels with a mixture of oil and mud, so they would 
be harder to see. Still another good idea was to pack 
the boilers with bags of ashes, clothing, sand and what- 



i8o A Sailor of Fortune 

ever was obtainable for the purpose. Many of the ships 
arranged rope nettings about the bulwarks to protect 
the men from flying splinters, and there were many 
such ingenious devices for safety and comfort of offi- 
cers and crews. 

There was also other employment. From the en- 
emy's fleet, which lay above the forts, fire-rafts began 
to come down — great scows, from fifty to a hundred 
feet long — loaded with pine knots and well saturated 
with tar, the whole burning fiercely like a prairie fire 
and making a rare show in the night on the water. 
The current was very swift, and it was believed by the 
enemy that these rafts would get among our vessels 
and set us afire. But stout crews were kept out in 
boats, armed with grapplings, and as fast as the rafts 
came down they were towed ashore and allowed to 
burn, or were sent drifting down the river below the 
fleet. Farragut watched this mode of warfare with 
some disgust. 

" If those fellows knew their business they could 
make it warm for us," he said ; " as it is, all they do 
is to deprive our boys of their rest." 

We also were harassed by about two hundred sharp- 
shooters, who ranged up and down the shore to carry 
information and to pick off our men. 

Farragut became impatient on the 20th and declared 
he would run the forts that night, but repairs to two 
vessels and the pleadings of Porter for more time with 
the mortars induced him to wait. On that night, how- 
ever, an expedition was organised to cut the chain 
which spanned the river below the forts. The Itasca and 
the Pinolaj dismasted that they might be less conspic- 



With Farragut i8i 

uous, undertook this desperate job. Fleet Captain Bell 
with Commanders Crosby and Calwell, and an ex- 
pert with petards, had the mission in hand, and with 
anxious interest we saw them sail away into the dark- 
ness. The plan was to blow up one of the supporting 
hulks wath a petard and sever the chain, permitting 
the rest of the hulks and the raft to swing down against 
the river banks. 

We knew, of course, they would be discovered, the 
only question being how much they could accomplish 
before they were sunk or driven away. The moments 
passed and seemed like hours. Suddenly the whole 
mortar fleet let loose a tremendous volley, with three 
to eight shells constantly in the air, falling like meteors 
in and around Fort Jackson. This was to divert at- 
tention from the chain expedition, but it failed to do 
so. A rocket went up from Fort Jackson, and then 
both forts opened a fire with heavy guns. Neither of 
our vessels replied and we had no means of knowing 
what was taking place. Over an hour of anxiety 
passed, during which we strained our eyes into the 
night for the first sight of the returning ships. Then 
at last a single small boat came out of the darkness. 
It was from the Pinola and brought the news that the 
chain was broken, and that the Itasca was hard and 
fast aground. The fire from the forts had slackened, 
but unless we got her oflf before moonrise she was cer- 
tain to be captured. Orders were sent to tow her oflF 
immediately, even at the sacrifice of her guns. But this 
was not necessary. By midnight both the Itasca and 
Pinola were safe at their anchorage, and while the 
barrier, which was held in place by anchors, was not 



1 82 A Sailor of Fortune 

completely destroyed, a passage had been made through 
it. The petard had failed to work owing to the swift- 
ness of the current, which had broken the connecting 
wires, so that the cutting had been accomplished by 
other means. No one had been killed, and we all drew 
a great breath of relief. 

By April 2ist, though nearly five thousand shells had 
been thrown, the forts appeared to be as powerful as 
ever. It was blowing a fierce norther and the weather 
was really very cold. Fire-rafts kept annoying us, and 
every day the enemy's gunboats came down to have a 
look at us or to land provisions and ammunition at 
Fort Jackson. On the night of the 21st a bright light 
in the vicinity of the chain, which we first took for a 
fire-raft, proved to be a party of the enemy trying to 
repair the broken barrier. On the same day the 
Oneida, while engaging Fort Jackson, lost almost an 
entire gun's crew by one shell. 

All of these things wore on Farragut's small store 
of patience, and I could see that he was getting rest- 
less. By the morning of the 22d, when the bombard- 
ment had continued four days and nights, our Flag 
Officer could no longer control his expression of its 
uselessness. 

" We are wasting ammunition," he said to Com- 
mander Porter, " and time. We will fool around down 
here until we have nothing left to fight with. I'm ready 
to run those forts now, to-night." 

But Porter still pleaded for time. 

" Wait one more day, Flag Officer," he said, " and 
I will cripple them so you can pass up with little or 
no loss of life." 



With Farragut 183 

This was a strong appeal to Farragut's tender 
nature. 

" All right, David/' he replied. " Go at 'em again 
and we'll see what happens by to-morrow." 

But to-morrow brought no change. Fort Jackson 
was as lively as ever, and Fort St. Philip, which had 
not been made a point of special attack, was almost 
untouched. Commander Porter came on board the 
Hartford to report, downcast but still anxious to con- 
tinue the bombardment. The discussion waxed pretty 
warm, and finally Farragut said : 

"Look here, David, we'll demonstrate the practical 
value of mortar work. Mr. Osbon," he added, turning 
to me, " get two small flags, a white one and a red 
one, and go to the mizzen topmasthead and watch 
where the mortar shells fall. If inside the fort, wave 
the red flag. If outside, wave the white one." Then to 
Porter, " You recommended Mr. Osbon to me, so you 
will have confidence in his count. Now go aboard 
your vessel, select a tallyman, and when all is ready, 
Mr. Osbon will wave his flags and the count will 
begin." 

The little flags were quickly made ready, the tally- 
man was selected, and the mortar flotilla presently 
opened up with renewed vigour. Up there at the mast- 
head where I could see, it kept me busy waving the 
little flags, and I had to watch very closely not to make 
mistakes. On the deck, 'way aft, Farragut sat, watch- 
ing the waving flags and occasionally asking for the 
score. The roar became perfectly deafening, and the 
ship trembled like an aspen. Still I kept the flags go- 
ing, while every man in the fleet was watching and 



184 A Sailor of Fortune 

trying to keep count. At last I was ordered from aloft 
and the tally sheet was footed up, showing that the 
" outs " had it, by a large majority. 

" There, David," said Farragut when Commander 
Porter came aboard, " there's the score. I guess we'll 
go up the river to-night." 

I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Every 
detail of the order of advance was gone over for the 
last time. As originally planned the ships were to ad- 
vance double-column abreast, with Farragut at the 
head of one column and Captain Bailey, on the Oneida, 
to lead the other. But Captain Lee, of the Oneida, 
had asked that he might be allowed to command his 
own vessel, and Commander Harrison, of the Httle 
gunboat Cayuga, had immediately asked Bailey to 
hoist his flag on that vessel. It was further decided 
that, as the opening in the barrier would not safely 
let a double column pass through, especially in the 
dark, the vessels should advance single file, and Cap- 
tain Bailey, with Commander Harrison in the little 
Cayuga, was assigned the post, of honour at the head 
of the column. Farragut himself selected the second 
division, and Fleet Captain Bell was to lead the third. 
In all, there were to be seventeen vessels in this great 
naval parade, and the order of march and action had 
been gone over and over until every man knew his 
place in the line, just what was expected of him, and 
what he was to do under all conditions. In closing his 
orders for that great undertaking Farragut said : 

I wish you to understand that the day is at hand when 
you will be called upon to meet the enemy in the worst 



With Farragut 185 

form for our profession. You must be prepared to exe- 
cute those duties to which you have been so long trained 
without having the opportunity of practising. . . . Hot 
and cold shot will, no doubt, be dealt freely to us, and 
there must be stout hearts and quick hands to extinguish 
the one and to stop the holes of the other. 

There were plenty of stout hearts and quick hands 
in that fleet, but on one or two of the vessels there 
were some sad hearts, also. There were men among 
them with families at home, and though they were will- 
ing enough to go into that terrible gateway, they were 
convinced that the shot intended for them had been 
cast. 

" Mr. Osbon," said Farragut that afternoon, point- 
ing to a vessel that lay near us, " I hear that they are 
as blue as indigo in that wardroom over there. Go 
over and cheer them up. Tell them some stories of 
the fights you've been in and come out of alive. It will 
stir their blood and do them good." 

I obeyed orders, and it may be I did no good; but 
I think the boys enjoyed the stories and certainly the 
vessel made as good a record as any in the fleet. Yet 
Farragut himself was not without his misgivings as 
to our probable losses. 

" What do you estimate our casualties will be, Mr. 
Osbon ? " he said, near evening, as we stood on the 
quarter-deck. 

" Flag Oflicer," I said, " I have been thinking of 
that, and I believe we will lose a hundred." 

That was a small percentage considering that we 
had four thousand in the fleet, and he looked at me 



i86 A Sailor of Fortune 

with a good deal of surprise. " No more than that? " 
he said. " How do you calculate on so small a 
number? " 

" Well," I answered, " most of us are pretty low in 
the water, and, being near, the enemy will shoot high. 
Then, too, we will be moving and it will be dark, with 
dense smoke. Another thing, gunners ashore are never 
as accurate as gunners aboard a vessel. I believe a hun- 
dred men will cover our loss." 

He looked at me steadily a moment, and then, a 
little sadly, said, 

" I wish I could think so. I wish I could be as sure 
of it as you are." 

He took a few turns up and down the deck, while 
I looked up at the sky to see what were the prospects 
for the eventful night. As I did so, I noticed a great 
bird — a. bald eagle it proved — circling above the 
fleet. 

" Look there, Flag Officer," I called, pointing up- 
ward. " That is ouf national emblem. It is a sign of 
victory." 

He came and stood beside me and we watched it for 
some time together. Somewhat later — it was just be- 
fore sunset — a Confederate steamer came down and 
took a good look at us across the broken chain. As 
soon as she was gone we began to form in line of 
battle. 

We were already stripped for action, and each man 
knew his position. Vessels dropped into place and the 
different divisions formed, ready to swing into line 
at the given hour and signal. 

As the sun slipped below the horizon men watched 



With Farragut 187 

it with the thought of what we would pass through 
before it again appeared. Ahead of us lay two power- 
ful forts, mounting some two hundred pieces of ar- 
tillery — a chain barrier in which there was but a 
narrow opening — a lot of dangerous hulks — a dozen 
or more Confederate gunboats, well armed — one or 
more rams — fire-rafts without number — a swift oppos- 
ing current and a desperate foe. Certainly there were 
those among us who would never see the sun again in 
the world ; and orders were given and ships took their 
appointed anchorage without much bustle or display. 



XXXI 

The Passing of the Forts 

AT the usual hour the crews turned in, but I think 

/ \ there was Httle sleep. The men were cheerful 
X JL and determined, but wakeful. Most of them 
had been green hands when we started, and scarcely 
one of them had been under fire. With a night attack 
just ahead it was but natural that they should be 
anxious. 

At about eleven o'clock the Itasca went up to see if 
the opening made in the chain was still unobstructed, 
and a little later signalled that the way was clear. Over 
on the river bank the mortars were pounding away, the 
bright globes circling in the air. With us all was quiet 
except for the hiss of escaping steam. It was a pleas- 
ant night — clear and no longer cold. The moon would 
rise at three o'clock. We were to start an hour 
earlier. 

At one, precisely, all hands were called, hammocks 
stowed, and everything made ready to weigh anchors 
at two. It was a solemn time. Men went about their 
duties, thinking of many things. The hour seemed but 
a few moments. On the stroke of two, with my own 
hands I hoisted to the mizzen peak a pair of red lan- 
terns, which was the signal to get under way. 

Now, this is the order and manner of the fighting 
that night below New Orleans, April 24, 1862: The 

188 



The Passing of the Forts 189 

little Cayuga, with Captain Theodorus Bailey and 
Commander Napoleon B. Harrison, headed the first 
division, with orders to receive, but not to return, the 
fire of Fort Jackson. 

" I will attend to Fort Jackson," Farragut had said, 
" you fellows make straight for St. Philip, and give it 
to them as you go by." 

Behind the Cayuga was to follow the sloop of war 
Pensacola, with Captain Morris, who was always a 
deliberate man and sometimes annoyed Farragut with 
his delays. And the old frigate Mississippi was to fol- 
low the Pensacola, with Melancthon Smith in com- 
mand, and a young executive named George Dewey 
on her spar deck; while behind the Mississippi was 
ranged Commander Lee with the Oneida, another 
sloop of war. Then came the Varuna, a converted 
merchantman, which with Commander Boggs was to 
make a glorious record on this her last day, and be- 
hind the Varuna, the Katahdin, the Kineo, and the 
Wissahickon, all little gunboats like the Cayuga, with 
officers Preble, Ransom and Smith in command. 

Farragut himself chose to lead the second division, 
which was made up of our flagship, the Hartford, with 
Commander Wainwright, and of the Brooklyn with 
Commander Craven, and the Richmond with Com- 
mander Alden — our three finest vessels — all sloops of 
war and the pride of the fleet. 

The third division was assigned to Fleet Captain 
Bell, who hoisted his flag on the little Sciofa, com- 
manded by Lieutenant Donaldson, while the Iroquois 
with John De Camp, came next, and the Kennebec 
with Johnnie Russell, and the Pinola with Lieutenant 



190 A Sailor of Fortune 

Crosby, and the Itasca, with Caldwell, and the Winona 
with Nichols, all little gunboats, small and noisy, like 
the tail of a rattler, trailing out behind. 

Seventeen there were of us altogether when I 
hoisted the two red lanterns, and almost immediately 
the Cayuga had her anchors up and was away into the 
darkness. It seemed that she had scarcely gone — she 
was just at the chain, in fact — when a blaze of light 
and a roar from Fort Jackson told that she had been 
discovered and^ according to orders, was receiving, 
though not returning, their fire. Then a second roar 
told that St. Philip had opened, and then at last we 
recognised the Cayuga's eleven-inch forward gun in 
reply, and knew she had so far lived, and that the fiery 
passage of the forts had begun at last. 

The Pensacola, meantime, always deliberate, had 
been slow getting her anchors, and the Varuna with 
Boggs, and the Oneida with Lee, and the old frigate 
Mississippi with Melancthon Smith, and with young 
George Dewey on the spar deck, had pushed in ahead ; 
and the Katahdin, and the Kineo, and the Wissahickon 
all eager for battle had followed, until presently the 
river before us had become a sheet of sulphurous 
flame, while smoke, thick and black, came drifting 
about us and stirred fiercely our fighting blood as only 
the smell of burning powder can. 

Still the Pensacola fumbled with her tangled an- 
chors, and our Flag Officer, who had been thus far 
calm and cheerful, responding " All right," or " Thank 
you, sir," as I reported the sailing of each vessel, now 
began to chafe at the delay to our division. 

" Damn that fellow ! I don't believe he wants to 



The Passing of the Forts 191 

start ! " he exclaimed at last, but just then old slow- 
going Morris did get his anchors and steered away 
into the black drift ahead. Then a little later we heard 
the Pensacola's big broadside guns roar, and roar, and 
keep roaring, with a regularity and deliberation which 
convinced us that Morris, as usual, was taking his 
time, and perhaps preferred to be at the end of his 
division, so that he need not be hurried in his jfighting 
and could pass leisurely along the fiery way. 

But it was now our turn to move, and without fur- 
ther delay we pushed into the black folds ahead, 
through which the flash and thunder came back inces- 
santly. It was just half-past-three, and meantime the 
moon had risen. Such light as came from it aided 
very little in that dense battle smoke. Carefully we felt 
our way through the opening in the chain, and then 
all at once the enemy's guns had found us, too, and 
solid shot was screaming overhead and fiery shells 
were bursting around us. At that moment, as by in- 
spiration, I hoisted our largest Star Spangled Banner 
at the peak, and hastening forward decked the fore 
and mainmasts each in the same way. 

" Why do you do that? " called Farragut, for it was 
unusual to have the colours flying at night. 

" Flag Oflicer," I shouted back, " I thought if we 
are to go down, it would look well to have our colours 
flying above the water ! " 

" All right," he returned, and presently behind us 
the Brooklyn and the Richmond, and the others had 
seen our flags above the smoke, and had their colours 
flying, too. 

A little way ahead the old Pensacola had calmly 



192 A Sailor of Fortune 

stopped her engines abreast of St. Philip, and slowly 
and with great precision was letting go broadside after 
broadside, as if upon her alone rested the sole responsi- 
bility of demolishing that fort. We could not see her, 
but we knew her guns, and her deliberate method of 
firing. 

We were now at the very teeth of destruction, but 
as yet had not fired a shot. It was our orders to waste 
no ammunition. Farragut had ascended to the port 
mizzen rigging, where he could see above the smoke 
and watch all that transpired. With his feet on the rat- 
lines and his back against the shrouds, he stood there 
as cool and undisturbed as if leaning against a mantel 
in his own home. All of Porter's mortars were going, 
and the crash and roar of the guns just ahead was 
something tremendous, but he seemed to heed it not 
at all. Twice he sent me to see that all the gun divi- 
sions were ready ; then he called : 

" Go forward and see if the bow guns will bear.'' 

A moment later I had returned with the information 
that we could reach them with one gun. 

" Tell Captain Wainwright to begin firing," he said 
quietly, and a shot from the bow gun began our share 
of the battle. " Load and fire at will," was the next 
order, and immediately after we were " attending to 
Fort Jackson," according to promise. 

It had taken us just twenty-five minutes against that 
heavy current to arrive at a position opposite the fort, 
and we were now given their fiercest fire. To sink the 
flagship would be a great achievement, even if they 
were conquered in the end. Behind those Confederate 
guns were brave men, and they did their best. 



Passing of the Forts 193 

Shot, shell, grape, and canister filled the air with 
deadly missiles. It was like the breaking up of the 
universe, with the moon and all the stars bursting in 
our midst. As for seeing what the other vessels were 
doing, or what was going on about us, that was im- 
possible. In that blinding smoke, and night, with 
everything flying in all directions, the only thing we 
could see was the flash of guns in our faces and the 
havoc on our own ship.* Ropes were swinging, splin- 
ters were flying. I dimly remember that once the 
Brooklyn swung in too near us and her jibboom car- 
ried away my " harp of a thousand strings " as the 
Flag Officer had called it — an arrangement of signal 
halyards in which I took great pride. I remember that 
I used violent language when I saw it go, and shook 
my fist at our gallant but clumsy consort through the 
flash and gloom. 

At first the enemy's aim had been high, but now 
they lowered it until their fire began to cut us through. 
Suddenly a rifle shell pierced the mainmast about on 
a line with where Farragut stood in the mizzen rig- 
ging. Without further delay I hurried up to him 
and begged him to come down^ but he refused to 
do so. 

" We can't afford to lose you. Flag Officer," I said. 
" They'll get you, up here, sure." 

I had a pair of small opera glasses and I had lent 
them to him, for they were handier than his large 
binoculars. 

* " Such a fire I imagine the world has rarely seen," says Far- 
ragut in his report. " . . . It was as if the artillery of heaven 
were playing upon the earth." 



194 A Sailor of Fortune 

" Flag Officer/' I insisted, ^' they'll break my opera 
glasses, if you stay up here." 

He held them out to me quite seriously. 

" Oh, damn the glasses ! " I said, " it's you we want. 
Come down ! " 

He did so presently, and he had barely left his place 
when a shell exploded there and cut away a lot of rig- 
ging, just where he had stood. 

Steadily we steamed on, and at ten minutes past four 
were just between the forts, where the action became 
still more general, and terrible. Less than three-quar- 
ters of a mile apart — from both forts at once, and 
from water-batteries above and below — thicker and 
faster came shot and shell, while we sent back grape, 
canister and shrapnel, sweeping their parapets of gun- 
ners again and again. 

And throughout this melee and carnage the business 
of navigating the vessel went steadily on. The sonor- 
ous cry of the leadsmen and the deep-voiced orders of 
Captain Wainwright to the man at the helm came as 
calmly through the roar of guns and riot of flame as 
if we were threading the uncertain channel on a night 
of peace. 

" Quarter-less-five — Half-five — Quarter-less-four — " 

The leadsmen's intonations came steadily through 
the smoke and crash, and then, deeply, from Captain 
Wainright, 

" Starboard — " and the vessel would slip over into 
safer water. That men never before under fire should 
maintain the calm presence of mind displayed on that 
occasion I count simply amazing. 

It is quite out of the question to give any idea of the 



Passing of the Forts 195 

fierceness of the fire at this time, or of the night pic- 
ture we made there in the midst of flame and smoke 
and iron hail. 

A shell burst on our deck, the concussion stunning 
Lieutenant George Heisler of our marine corps. I ran 
forward to see what damage had been done, when the 
wind of another shell carried away my cap. For some 
reason it made me wildly furious. I swung my arms 
and vented futile rage into the battle smoke at the men 
over there behind the guns. 

We were struck now on all sides. A shell entered 
our starboard beam, cut our cable, wrecked our ar- 
mory and exploded at the main hatch, killing one man 
instantly, and wounding several others. Another en- 
tered the muzzle of a gun, breaking the lip and killing 
the sponger who was in the act of " ramming home." 
A third entered the boatswain's room, destroying 
everything in its path and, exploding, killed a coloured 
servant who was passing powder. 

Death and destruction seemed everywhere. Men's 
faces were covered with powder-black and daubed with 
blood. They had become like a lot of demons in a wild 
inferno, working fiercely at the business of death. 
Suddenly out of the gloom ahead appeared a Con- 
federate steamer, her deck loaded with troops, who 
opened on us with a volley of musketry. There was 
no time to be lost. Our howitzers instantly replied, 
and Lieutenant John Broome of the marine corps 
trained two nine-inch guns on her and let go. We saw 
the shells strike. Then followed an explosion, horri- 
fied yells, a sudden careen, and the waters of the 
Mississippi had covered her and all on board. 



196 A Sailor of Fortune 

We now realised that Bailey's division was fiercely 
engaged with the enemy's gunboats just ahead, sink- 
ing and burning them — for, one after another, blazing 
Confederate craft came drifting down the tide, among 
them a huge fire- raft, attended by the ram Manassas, 
which was pushing and butting it toward the Hartford. 

It was 4.15 by the watch lashed to my sleeve, where 
I kept my notes — it being my double duty as Flag 
Of^cer's clerk and as correspondent to record the prog- 
ress of the battle — and we were just abreast of Fort 
St. Philip, close up — our howitzers in the tops sweep- 
ing the parapets, our broadsides pounding at her big 
guns, when at this critical moment, with the fort on 
one hand and the fire-raft on the other, we went 
aground. 

This was indeed a crisis. The ram, seeing our pre- 
dicament, promptly shoved the blazing raft under our 
port quarter, and in an instant our rigging and the 
side of our vessel had caught fire. Another fire at this 
moment was started by a shell exploding in a locker 
filled with ditty-boxes * down on the berth deck, and 
for a time it seemed that our end had come. There was 
prompt action at the hose, but I realised that some- 
thing had to be done with the fire-raft instantly. Some 
twenty-pound rifle shells were lying handy, and I 
rolled three of them to the waterways just above the 
blazing scow. It was fiercely hot there, and I threw 
a heavy coat over my head, and, leaning down, began 
uncapping the shells. I had two of them ready when 
Farragut came over to see what I was at. As I was 
covered with the coat, he could only see that I was 

*A receptacle where sailors keep trinkets, needle, thread, etc 



The Passing of the Forts 197 

upon my knees, and he may have remembered that my 
father was a minister, for he said : 

" Come, Mr. Osbon, this is no time for prayer ! " 

I got the cap off of the third shell just then, but I 
paused long enough to say, 

" Flag Officer, if you'll wait a second you'll get the 
quickest answer to prayer ever you heard of," and I 
rolled the three shells into the burning raft. Almost 
instantly they exploded with a great noise, tearing a 
wide hole in the fire-raft and giving the little ironclad 
such a scare that she backed off with her sinking 
charge, delivering a parting shot from her single 
gun.* The hose was at work by this time and our own 
flames were quickly extinguished; also the fire from 
St. Philip had slackened somewhat, for our smudge- 
faced gunners and those of vessels pushing by us had 
kept up an unceasing and overwhelming fire.f 

It was a full twenty minutes that we lay there 



*This shot embedded itself in our rudder post, and is now 
preserved in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. 

fThe late Admiral Boggs used to delight in relating a story 
told him by Farragut, called " Osbon's Prayer." Farragut seeing 
an officer kneeling by the poop-plank shear shouted out, " Come, 
sir, this is no time for prayer ! " The officer addressed was 
B. S, Osbon, Farragut's signal clerk, who, seeing the great peril 
the ship was in, put an overcoat that lay in the signal locker 
over his head to prevent the flames from burning him, and 
rolled three twenty-pound rifle shells up under the curling flames, 
deftly uncapped them, and just as Farragut chided him for his 
prayers at such a time, threw them over the side into the fire- 
raft, and in five seconds they had exploded, tearing out the 
sides of the raft. After the explosion of the shells water 
rushed into the raft and she sank. — From *' Records and Battles 
of Admiral George Dewey," by M. F. Tobin, Commander of the 
Associated Veterans of Farragut's Fleet. 



198 A Sailor of Fortune 

abreast of St. Philip. Then our engineers got us off, 
and, still followed by the fire of the forts, we pushed 
on toward the battle with the fleet, which we could 
hear going on just above. But Bailey's division had 
attended to the matter well. The battle was nearly 
over. Everywhere Confederate vessels were sinking 
— burning holes in the night. On both shores and in 
the stream they lay. We knew that wonderful fighting 
had been going on up there, but we could scarcely be- 
lieve our eyes. Of a fleet of eighteen, including rams 
and a powerful ironclad, the Louisiana, but three or 
four had survived, and these were disabled or retreat- 
ing — falling out of the fight. The plucky little ram 
Manassas was still afloat, and made one more attempt 
to damage the Union fleet, ramming here and there 
as best she could, though now with little result. 

** Signal the Mississippi to sink that damn thing," 
commanded Farragut, and a minute later the old 
craft — with young George Dewey, executive, still on 
the spar deck — was after her, and coming alongside 
plunged an entire broadside through her armour. Sink- 
ing rapidly, the ram made for the shore, where thirty 
men ran out of her gun port and escaped to the woods. 
Another volley or two was poured into her, and she 
drifted down between the forts, sinking lower and 
lower in the water. That ended the great battle of the 
24th of April. We had met the enemy " in the worst 
form for our profession," and still at our mastheads — 
shot through and ribboned, but radiant with sunrise 
and victory — our colours bannered to the morning 
sky. 



XXXII 

The March of the Victors 

A LL our vessels but three had passed above the 
/ \ forts. The brave Httle Itasca early in the fight 
X Jl had received a shot through her boiler v^hich 
made it impossible for her to proceed; the Winona 
and the Kennebec had become entangled in the chain- 
hulks and had been unable to extricate themselves be- 
fore daylight, when it would have been almost certain 
destruction to attempt the passage. The Winona, in 
fact, lost almost an entire gun's crew in making the 
effort, and the Kennebec prudently withdrew.* Of the 
vessels that had passed the forts, every one had been 
pierced through and through, and one, the Varuna, 
Commander Boggs, had been struck by two rams and 
sunk, though not before she had destroyed or driven 
ashore three vessels, and had kept her guns going un- 
til the carriages were covered with water, disabling 
one of her assailants and destroying the other — five 
to her credit in all. Then she was run ashore, and her 
crew, including the wounded, saved. 

I should like to recount here the exploits of every 

*The vessels which were unable to pass attached themselves 
to Commodore Porter's fleet below the forts, which, besides the 
mortar flotilla, consisted of the Harriet Lane, WestHeld, Owasco, 
Clifton, and Miami, and the Portsmouth, towed by the Jackson. 
This division lay on the west bank, just below Fort Jackson, and 
enfiladed the works with a hot fire. 

199 



200 A Sailor of Fortune 

vessel in our noble fleet, but I can find room for only 
a few. Thie Cayuga, which bore the flag of Theodorus 
Bailey, and led the way, must come first of these : 

She made no reply to the guns of Fort Jackson, but 
held her fire until close up with St. Philip, when she 
let go with grape and canister, still steering on. The 
little gunboat was struck from stem to stern. Shot 
after shot went through her, though without reaching 
a vital spot or checking her progress. Then all at once, 
just above St. Philip, she was surrounded by the 
" Montgomery Flotilla " — the enemy's fleet, consist- 
ing of sixteen gunboats, many of them with iron 
prows, the ram Manassas, and the floating iron bat- 
tery Louisiana, of twenty guns. It was an anxious 
moment, for no supporting vessel was in sight. Yet 
the little Cayuga did not hesitate. The forts had been 
found impregnable. Here, at least, was something 
that would sink. " This," says Bailey in his report, 
" was hot but more congenial work." 

Three large steamers attempted to board him — num- 
ber one on the starboard bow — number two astern — 
number three on the starboard beam. That was as 
many as could get around him, and the fire was pour- 
ing in. But just here the Cayuga's eleven-inch Dahl- 
gren went off in the direction of number three at a 
point-blank range of thirty yards. 

The effect was something tremendous. " He im- 
mediately steered in shore," says Bailey, " ran aground 
and burnt himself up." The forecastle gun settled the 
enemy in that quarter, the remaining vessel being now 
so close that the Cayuga's crew prepared to repel 
boarders. It did not come to this. The guns did the 



The March of the Victors 201 

work, and before the remainder of the Confederate 
flotilla could close on the Cayuga, Boggs with the 
swift, ill-fated Varuna and Lee with the Oneida came 
dashing up, and with the Cayuga quickly made a fin- 
ish of eleven of the enemy's fleet, sinking and burning 
them in all directions. Then the Cayuga discovered 
a Confederate camp on the right shore, and steering 
in close, shouted to the colonel to pile up his arms on 
the river bank and come aboard, which he promptly 
did. The Cayuga had forty-two holes through her, 
when all was over, and six wounded men — but not a 
man was killed.* 

Though the Pensacola did not take her appointed 
place in the line of battle, I will add another word of 
her movements here. Always deliberate, she made not 
the least haste either in her firing or her progress. 
Here and there abreast of the forts, where it was hot- 
test, she stopped her engines and poured in carefully 
aimed broadsides, which probably did more damage 
than those of any other vessel in the fleet. Once she 
was struck by the ram Manassas, which, however, 

* Commander N. B. Harrison, of the Cayuga, gives it to us 
in a nut-shell. " At 2 a. m., in obedience to the Flag Officer's 
signal, weighed anchor, led the column toward the barrier, and 
stood up stream, close to Fort St. Philip. At 2.45 both forts 
opened their fire. At 2.50 opened on Fort St. Philip with grape 
and canister. At 3 passed the line of fire of Fort St. Philip, 
and encountered some eleven gunboats, no supporting ships in 
sight. At 3.25 one steamer surrendered, and two more were 
driven on shore. At this moment discovered the Varuna and 
Oneida dash gallantly into the fight. At 5 anchored in front of 
Camp Lovell and received the submission of Colonel Szymanski 
and his command." 

Here, in the space of a little more than a hundred words, we 
have material for as many historical novels. 



202 A Sailor of Fortune 

sheered off without doing serious hurt — receiving a 
destructive broadside as it passed. When the Pensa- 
cola concluded that she had done her duty, thoroughly 
and professionally, so far as the forts were concerned, 
she went up into the naval fight and took off part of the 
crew from the sinking Vanma. The unhurried prog- 
ress of the Pensacola made her a target for the en- 
emy's fire. She had many shot holes and a total of 
thirty-seven killed and wounded — more than any other 
vessel of the fleet. 

The Brooklyn came next in the list of casualties. 
Her place was behind the Hartford, but in the dark- 
ness and blinding smoke she lost sight of us and be- 
came entangled in the chain-hulks. When she was 
finally rid of these she lost herself once more in the 
dense clouds which we left behind us, and coming 
upon us suddenly, carried away my signal halyards. 
Meantime she had been raked by Fort Jackson, had 
sunk a venturesome Confederate steamer, and now, 
blinded by the fire-raft and butted by the ram, came 
blundering over toward St. Philip, where in thirteen 
feet of water she engaged and temporarily silenced 
that fort. She got out at last, only to be attacked by 
other steamers, into which she poured death-dealing 
broadsides. Her progress had been eccentric but effec- 
tive, and her killed and wounded totalled thirty-five 
men. 

I should like to speak of more of the vessels — of 
the Oneida, which ran in so close to St. Philip that 
she was below the angle of the enemy's guns, of the 
Iroquois, which made a gallant record, arriving above 
the forts in time to sink a number of the enemy's fleet, 



The March of the Victors 203 

of the old frigate Mississippi, whose course was di- 
rected by the man who was one day to conquer at 
Manila — of the sloop of war Richmond; of the 
Katahdin, the Kineo, and the Wissahickon; of the 
Sciota, and the Pinola — that small and noisy division 
that, like the tail of a rattler, yet stinging and savage 
like the cracker of a whip, came trailing out behind. 
All the vessels did brave work — all were struck and 
torn, nearly all lost men. 

It was five o'clock when we came to anchor off 
Quarantine above the forts. 

" Make the signal to report casualties, Mr. Osbon,'* 
said the Flag Officer, and one by one as the vessels 
collected they sent up their flags in reply. Throughout 
the battle Farragut's one anxiety had seemed to be 
for the safety of his men. Now and then, when I re- 
ported to him how few had fallen on our own vessel 
he had said fervently, " Thank God ! " When he had 
seen the Varuna sinking, his first exclamation was, " I 
pray that Boggs and his people are safe! " He stood 
by me now, as the reports came in, anxiously watch- 
ing the figures I set down. When they were many, as 
in the case of the Brooklyn and Pensacola, he sighed 
deeply. When they were few he breathed thanks. 
When the list was made up and a total of twenty-four 
killed and eighty-six wounded were reported he ut- 
tered a fervent exclamation of gratitude.* I had un- 
derestimated by ten men. His chief concern now was 
for the Winona, the Itasca, and the Kennebec, of 

*The total Union loss, killed and wounded, in all the actions 
below New Orleans eventually footed up about one hundred and 
eighty. The Confederate loss was many times that number. 



204 A Sailor of Fortune 

whose fate we knew nothing. Our fear was that they 
had been sunk, and Farragut immediately dispatched 
Captain Boggs with one of the gunboats through the 
Quarantine Bayou to learn what was possible of the 
missing vessels, as well as to report our success to 
Commander Porter,* also to notify General Butler 
that the way was now clear for him to bring up troops 
through the bayou, as the enemy had nothing left but 
the forts, and these — their supplies cut off and of no 
service to their cause — must speedily surrender. They 
did so, in fact, to Commander Porter, next day. 

We lay off Quarantine all day on the 24th, resting. 
Yet it was a busy day. Commanding officers came 
aboard the flagship to exchange congratulations, and 
to pay tribute to the brave, capable man who had made 
the great victory possible. He received them in the 
most quiet, modest manner, saying to each that it was 
his officers and men who had won the battle. To us 
in that moment he seemed the greatest hero of the 
ages. If permitted, we would have cheered him all day 
long. That evening we steamed up to the English Turn, 
not far below New Orleans, and halted there to give 
the men a night's rest, for, according to report, there 
were yet two more strong works — the Chalmette Bat- 
teries — to pass. I slept on deck that night, to receive 
or send any emergency signals, and on the only occa- 
sion I had need to report to Farragut, found him sleep- 
ing as quietly as a babe. 

* In his letter to Commander Porter, Farragut said: 
" We had a rough time of it, as Boggs will tell you, but, thank 
God, the number of killed and wounded was very small consid- 
ering. . . . You supported us most nobly." 



The March of the Victors 205 

Early on the morning of the 25th we had our an- 
chors up and were away, but once more the httle wasp 
of a Cayuga was on ahead, and, before we could get 
within a mile of her, was lying bow and stern across 
the batteries, they raking her, she giving it to them 
with her eleven-inch and Parrott guns. I have never 
seen a more daring thing than that little gunboat lying 
there alone in broad daylight, engaging two forts. 
Fifteen minutes later we were beside her, but it was 
not immediately that we could bring our guns to bear. 
Gradually we worked around until our port broadside 
could be used, and, taking careful aim, let it go alto- 
gether, permanently closing the incident so far as the 
battery on that bank was concerned. The Pensacola, 
the Brooklyn, and the little Sciota meantime had come 
up, and had promptly attended to the works on the 
east shore. On both sides the batteries were being de- 
serted — men running in all directions. Two on horse- 
back attracted my attention. They were within easy 
range, and in the excitement of the moment I picked 
up a rifle and drew a bead on the forward man. Then, 
just in time, I remembered what such an action would 
be, and dropped the gun. Nearly forty years later, at 
a meeting of veterans of both sides in New York City, 
I told this incident, and a man ran up and grabbed me 
by the hand. 

** My God ! " he said, " I was the front man on that 
horse ! You saved my life." 

There was no further interference with our progress 
toward New Orleans, and we went up as in a parade 
of triumph. On either side of the river were fine plan- 
tations, and some of these were owned by loyal people. 



2o6 A Sailor of Fortune 

Now that they could safely do so, they had the Stars 
and Stripes floating from their beautiful old mansions, 
and returned our cheers and wavings. Even where 
we were regarded with scorn by men and women col- 
lected on the front verandas to see us pass, there would 
be a group of negroes in the rear, making silent but 
joyous gesticulations of welcome. Below the Chal- 
mette Batteries, when we were close in shore, a very 
old darkey with a carpet bag and an umbrella had fol- 
lowed along the levee, shouting praises to the Yankee 
fleet and to his Maker, until suddenly the guns of the 
Cayuga opened, when with a wild whoop he dis- 
appeared as if hit by a shell. I thought Farragut 
would laugh himself sick. 

We were now greeted with dense smoke and burn- 
ing craft of every description. The mob at New Or- 
leans, in anticipation of our arrival, were destroying 
whatever fire would consume. Steamers loaded with 
cotton, blazing and smoking, went drifting by, and 
vessels of every kind. Large ships had been fired and 
cut adrift to float down upon us, and as a heavy shower 
had now begun, the smoke became dense, almost blind- 
ing. Then we were abreast the city, and I hope I may 
never live to see another such destruction of property, 
such a wild, indiscriminate burning, such a futile and 
useless outburst of invective and denunciation as 
greeted our eyes and ears when we came to anchor 
off New Orleans — when the men and women of that 
city looked across incendiary flames and smoke of 
their burning stores at the red, white and blue of the 
Star Spangled Banner once more floating on the 
breeze. Their fury was beyond bounds. A little party 



The March of the Victors 207 

on shore who waved a white flag and cheered for the 
Union, was assaulted and several persons killed.* 

On the twenty-sixth I accompanied a force up the 
river to Carrollton, where there were two forts of re- 
ported strength, but panic had gone before us. We 
found the guns deserted and spiked and the gun car- 
riages in flames. On the same day the city formally 
surrendered, and the American flag had been hoisted 
over the custom house. 

You will . . . proceed up the Mississippi River, 
and reduce the defences which guard the approaches to 
New Orleans, when you will appear off that city and 
take possession of it under the guns of your squadron, 
and hoist the American flag therein, keeping possession 
until troops can be sent you. 

These had been Farragut's orders. He had obeyed 
them to the letter. 

* In Farragut's reports he says : " I have never witnessed such 
vandalism in my life as the destruction of property. . . . 
Ships, steamers, cotton, coal, were all in one common blaze." 



XXXIII 
Bearing the News Northward 

IT was decided that Captain Theodorus Bailey, 
with Commander Boggs (now without a ship) 
should be the bearer of despatches to Washing- 
ton, and I was permitted by Flag Officer Farragut to 
accompany them. The little Cayuga was selected for 
the trip, and we sailed April 29th. As I left the Hart- 
ford to go aboard the Cayuga, the sailors of the flag- 
ship manned the rigging and gave me three cheers.* 
It was a beautiful and unexpected tribute of good-bye, 
and this, with the Flag Officer's mention,! has been 
always my most precious reward for services which 
were performed with no idea of compensation, and, in- 
deed, were no more than would gladly have been ren- 
dered by every man on that noble ship. There was no 
monopoly on courage in that fleet. Every man had it 
and had looked into the fiery face of death without a 

* At 3 p. M. Mr. Osbon, flag-lieutenant (signal officer), left the 
ship to go on board the Cayuga; as he was leaving, gave him 
three cheers. — " Cruise of the U. S. flag-ship Hartford" by 
William C. Holton, ship's yeoman. 

t " And those who were around me — the signat officer, my clerk, 
Mr. Osbo(r)n, Messrs. Bache and Wardell, captain's clerks, and 
Master's Mate Allen, who had charge of the twenty-pounder 
gun (an apprentice boy), all did their duty well," etc, — Report 
No. 88, Flag Officer Farragut to Secretary Welles. 

208 



Bearing the News Northward 209 

tremor. If my shipmates had an impulse to cheer me, 
I suspect that it was more for the reason that I had 
entertained them somewhat and made myself useful 
among them during the days below the forts, than for 
anything I may have achieved during the hot and 
spectacular passage which followed. 

It was three o'clock when I went aboard the Ca- 
yuga, and a little later we set off down the river, fol- 
lowed by the cheers of the entire fleet. 

General Butler was at the Quarantine station at 
this time, and it was our orders to notify him that we 
were going North, and to stop long enough for him to 
prepare any letters he might wish to send. It was night 
when we arrived off the hospital buildings, and I was 
sent ashore to notify Butler, and to wait for the 
letters. 

The boat pulled alongside the wharf and I walked 
toward the buildings, surprised at not being chal- 
lenged. In a room on the right hand sat two or three 
officers, who were considerably surprised at seeing a 
stranger in naval uniform appear suddenly in their 
midst. They rose hastily, but before they could speak 
I stated my name and errand. Then one of them 
merely waved toward the end of the hall. 

" You will find the General in that room," he 
said. 

Whatever General Butler^s discipline may have 
been later, at New Orleans, it certainly was lax 
enough here. I went to the end of the hall, opened the 
door, and there, stretched on a hospital cot, was a fat 
man, sleeping noisily. On a chair at his side was a 
bottle bearing the legend " S. T. i860. X.," and in 



2IO A Sailor of Fortune 

the neck a flaring tallow candle, burned almost down 
to the glass. The sleeper was only partly covered. His 
head was encased in a red nightcap. I spoke to him, 
but he did not hear me. Then I called in a loud voice, 
"General Butler!" 

He turned over, fixed that peculiar eye of his on 
me and said : " Well, who are you ? " 

"Mr. Osbon," I said, "from the Hartford. The 
Cayuga is here, going North with despatches. Flag 
Officer Farragut presents compliments, and has asked 
me to say that if you have a few letters to write we 
will wait and carry them North for you." 

The General was on his feet in an instant — a pic- 
ture worthy of canvas. A moment later and the build- 
ing was in an uproar. He was shouting for clerks and 
aides, and they came rushing in. He commanded his 
aides to give out the word that there was an oppor- 
tunity to write letters. Then with three or four of his 
clerks seated at different tables he began dictating his 
own correspondence, walking from one to the other, 
keeping all the different letters going at once, in a 
way which to me seemed marvellous. He was in a con- 
tinuous circle of correspondence, as it were, and how 
he could keep up the continuity of the various letters, 
I cannot understand to this day. Ludicrous as he 
looked, I acquired more respect for him that night 
than I had known on any previous occasion. At the 
end of an hour I had an armful of letters, and we pro- 
ceeded on our way down the river, past the now 
friendly forts — the way between starlit and peaceful, 
where all so recently had been flame and battle smoke 
— down through the passes, and out to sea. 



Bearing the News Northward 2 1 1 

That was a memorable trip, on the Cayuga. No 
better or more com.panionable men than Captains 
Bailey * and Boggs ever lived, and our passage was a 
continual round of reminiscence and pleasant recrea- 
tion. 

Of course our talk was chiefly of recent events, 
but, as I remember it now, there was much less refer- 
ence to recent dangers and deeds of valour than to the 
humorous incidents of the fight, or at least to what 
now appeared proper food for mirth. Perhaps what 
amused us most was an incident which had occurred 
to the coloured boy of the Cayuga. He had been pass- 
ing powder when a spent grapeshot had struck a cast- 
ing near him and shattered, half of it striking him 

* Such was my admiration for Captain Theodorus Bailey, that 
somewhat later I made application for service under his com- 
mand, receiving the following reply : 

57 E. 23d St., New York City. 

Dear Sir: — In answer to your letter, it affords me pleasure 
to testify to the fact that you served with Flag Officer Farragut 
in the flagship Hartford as volunteer clerk and signal officer 
during the expedition and battles in the river ending in the cap- 
ture of New Orleans. And Flag Officer Farragut told me he 
found you one of the most useful persons on board, intelligent, 
and full of resources. A passage home was granted you in the 
gunboat Cayuga. 

Your courage, deportment, and efficiency in the Hartford were 
highly and generally appreciated from the fact that I saw them 
give you three cheers on leaving (all the ships manned the rig- 
ging and cheered you as you passed by them). In case I am 
ordered in command of a squadron it would afford me pleasure to 
have you join me as secretary, volunteer aide, or in any staff 
capacity that the regulations or usages of the service will allow. 
Respectfully your obedient servant, 

Theodorus Bailey, Captain, U. S. N. 
To Mr. B. S. Osborn, New York. 



212 A Sailor of Fortune 

plump in the forehead. I suppose his frontal bone was 
thick there, for the piece of shot had dropped to the 
deck without doing any special injury beyond a bruise, 
and the plucky coloured boy had paused long enough 
to pick up the missile and pocket it for future refer- 
ence. When the fight had ended, and different ones of 
the crew had recounted their various accidents and 
escapes, the little fellow (he was not more than four- 
teen) stepped up and pulled the half grapeshot from 
his pocket. 

" Look heah," he said proudly, " dat shot done hit 
me on he haid an' broke in two. Dere's de shot and 
dere's de place it hit me. You can see foh you'se'f." 

It was Boggs's greatest joy now to call this lad and 
to have him repeat the story, which the young hero 
did with delight, several times a day. 

It was the 8th of May when we arrived off Fortress 
Monroe, just in time, as it happened, to witness another 
naval battle, though of a feeble sort, compared with 
what we had seen. Yorktown had been occupied by 
McClellan a few days before, and with Fortress 
Monroe already ours, conditions were ripe for the fall 
of Norfolk. President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton 
had come down from Washington to witness the spec- 
tacle. Commodore Goldsborough's fleet — wherein was 
the Monitor, which had already demonstrated her su- 
periority over the Merrimac, and a number of other 
fine vessels, including several improvised rams — was 
expected to make short work of the Confederate 
squadron. 

Learning of Mr. Lincoln's presence, we sought out 
the tug from which he was watching the proceedings. 



Bearing the News Northward 213 

and went aboard. The fleet was then in full play, and 
we stood ready with the Cayuga to enter the fight, if 
invited. But President Lincoln was more eager to hear 
the news from New Orleans than that we should add 
to our laurels. He made us tell the story of the great 
fight in detail, meantime keeping his eye on the move- 
ments of the fleet under Goldsborough, which though 
fighting with discretion was evidently getting the best 
of the battle. 

All at once I saw a signal made from the Minnesota, 
the flagship, to withdraw from action, and this at the 
very moment when we all thought that our rams 
should have improved their opportunity and destroyed 
the Merrimac, still the terror of the fleet. Naturally 
my blood began to boil, and I freely expressed my 
opinion of Goldsborough's fighting. 

" How can you tell what is going to happen ? " 
asked Mr. Lincoln. 

" Because/' I said, " I am a signal oflicer, and can 
read flags," and taking a signal book from the oflicer 
of the tug, I showed him just what was going on, and 
did not hesitate to add that if Farragut were only in 
Hampton Roads the victory would be ours in thirty 
minutes. Bailey and Boggs fully agreed with me, and 
Mr. Lincoln looked puzzled and distressed. It was evi- 
dent to all of us that the Confederates were on the 
run, and that the Merrimac even then was limping 
away. That Goldsborough did not press his advantage 
home disgusted those of us who had so recently seen 
fighting of another sort, and that the President remon- 
strated with him that night is shown by the Commo- 
dore's letter of explanation, in which he says : " I 



214 A Sailor of Fortune 

supposed I was carrying out your wishes in substance, 
if not to the letter." * 

Bailey and Boggs as well as myself had now lost in- 
terest in the operations at Norfolk, and we were all 
very anxious to get home, Bailey with his despatches 
and I with the story of the fight below New Orleans, 
which as yet had not reached the North save in brief 
fragments, chiefly from Southern sources. We there- 
fore asked Mr. Lincoln if there was any reason why 
the mail boat, held by orders of Secretary Stanton, 
should not proceed to Baltimore. 

The President declared that so far as he knew there 
was no reason for further delay, and directed me to 
tell Mr. Stanton that he desired the boat should pro- 
ceed with the important despatches carried by Captains 
Bailey and Boggs. 

* Many comparisons were drawn between the operations of the 
fleets at Norfolk and at New Orleans. The New York Times 
correspondent, May 7th, 1862, said : 

" The whole army and navy is paralysed by the Merrimac. 
Commodore Goldsborough of this station will not stir a vessel 
or move a gun in any direction so long as the Merrimac threatens 
this part of the coast. The spectacle presented here is pitiable. 
We have here the Monitor, which has already shown herself a 
match for the Merrimac, the Naugatuck and Galena, both iron- 
clads, the Vanderhilt, Arrago, and Illinois, all prepared for the 
express purpose of running her down, besides two guns mounted 
on shore throwing balls and shells weighing over four hundred 
pounds, and both commanding at point-blank range the channel 
through which the Merrimac must pass to enter York River, 
and the entire armament of Fortress Monroe; and yet, with all 
this force, the naval authorities here do not dare look the 
Merrimac in the face, but act as if the end of the world had come 
if she but show her nose off Crainey Island." 

Norfolk surrendered to the combined land forces May loth. 
Perhaps Commodore Goldsborough's policy of delay was inspired 
by the wish to avoid possible losses of men and vessels. 



Bearing the News Northward 215 

I went up into the Fort, found Mr. Stanton lying 
on the lounge, saluted him, and delivered Mr. Lin- 
coln's message, asking if the mailboat might be al- 
lowed to proceed to Baltimore. Mr. Stanton raised 
himself on his elbow and regarded me sternly. 

" No, sir," he said. " You will tell Mr. Lincoln that 
the m^ailboat will go to Baltimore when I say she'll go." 

I returned to the tug and reported Secretary Stan- 
ton's exact words. The President regarded me mildly, 
but with a curious look in his eye. 

" Where is the captain of the boat ? " he asked. 

" There," I replied, pointing to a man on the dock. 

" You may tell him to come here," said Mr. Lincoln, 
and not many minutes later the captain of the mailboat 
stood before the President, who was likewise Com- 
mander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United 
States. 

"Are you ready to proceed to Baltimore?" Mr. 
Lincoln asked. 

The captain said he was, that his mails were ready 
to be put on board. 

" Very well. Get your passengers together, put 
your mails on board and proceed to Baltimore at once. 
These gentlemen are just from New Orleans, with 
official reports of the glorious fight, and we are very 
anxious to get them to Washington." 

The captain at once obeyed, got his mails and pas- 
sengers aboard, cast off lines and we were away. But 
as we rounded the face of the Fortress there came a 
puff of smoke and the report of a blank cartridge, a 
signal to stop. I was in the pilot-house with the cap- 
tain, and when the gun was fired he said : 



2i6 A Sailor of Fortune 

" Look here, that means we must turn around and 
go back." 

" Captain," I said, " the orders from the President 
of the United States, who is also the Commander in 
Chief of the Army and Navy, were to proceed at once 
to Baltimore, and I'm a witness to see that you go." 

The words were hardly out of my mouth when — • 
boom ! It was a shotted gun this time, the ball passing 
across our bows. 

Once more the captain hesitated. This was getting 
serious. 

" Captain," I said, " Farragut obeyed orders and 
went to New Orleans in the face of hundreds of such 
guns as that. Don't you let them scare you ! " 

There were no more shots fired. We proceeded to 
Baltimore without further trouble and I was in New 
York next day. On the loth my story of the opera- 
tions below New Orleans occupied nearly three pages 
of solid matter in the Herald, and was the only ac- 
count written by a man who had actually passed the 
forts. On May 24th my sketches occupied three pages 
of Harper's Weekly. 



XXXIV 

I Carry News of the Seven Days' Battle 

IT may have been due to the excitement and stress 
of those days below New Orleans — to climatic 
conditions, or to the food and water — I can- 
not say, but from whatever cause, I fell ill with a 
gastric fever shortly after my return from the South, 
and was unable to resume my post with Flag Officer 
Farragut, much as I desired to do so. For a time I 
was unfit for work of any kind, and when I recovered 
I confined myself to office duties, with an occasional 
trip to Hampton Roads, or to some other point near 
the front of action. 

While the Seven Days' fight was in progress — June 
25th to July 1st, 1862 — I was at Fortress Monroe, in 
charge of a sort of bureau for our correspondents in 
the field, looking after their supplies, receiving their 
despatches, forwarding as best I could the story of the 
battle, for which all the country was so eagerly wait- 
ing. But when the last day's struggle ended at Mal- 
vern Hill, and the tale of death and bloodshed was 
complete, the War Department forbade us free use of 
the wires; so, with a number of correspondents for 
other Northern journals, I determined to come to New 
York at once, bringing the copy in person. We em- 
barked on the Baltimore mailboat, which had a large 

217 



21 8 A Sailor of Fortune 

number of Confederate prisoners on the way to Fort 
McHenry. 

There was not much sleep on the boat that night, 
and when we arrived at Baltimore all made a rush for 
the New York train. There was only one in those days 
and we all made it, but it was a discouragingly slow 
affair, for the road was crowded with troops going to 
the front and there were many delays. At last about 
dusk, when we were still several miles out of Philadel- 
phia, a blinding rainstorm set in and slowed us down 
still more. Then, as a final disaster, we collided with 
a cow, which derailed the engine in a lonely place and 
upset things generally. 

Some of the correspondents now held a council of 
war and decided that it was no use to make any fur- 
ther effort to get through that night, and that it was 
advisable to get a much needed rest. I did not join 
this council, but quietly taking my gripsack contain- 
ing the despatches, I set off in the direction of a light 
I had seen shining brightly in a window about half a 
mile away. 

Reaching the house I knocked, and was presently 
relating to the family my story of our railway acci- 
dent, adding that there were very urgent reasons why 
I should reach New York without further delay. I 
of course made no mention of the fact that I was a 
correspondent, or that there were others in a similar 
plight. 

A beat was a beat in those days and their oppor- 
tunities had been the same as mine. I did put in 
something about a deathbed and a mother anxiously 
waiting, all of which was true, many times over, for 



The Seven Days' Battle 219 

my despatches carried the tale of many thousand 
deathbeds, while anxious mothers in every corner of 
the land were waiting for the latest word and for the 
long, long list of names. Even if the thought of an- 
other great news victory was uppermost in my mind, I 
think my argument was justified. I ended by offering 
the man of the house five dollars to hitch up and drive 
me to West Philadelphia. 

But it was a bad night — terrible, in fact — and the 
man of the house did not want to go. The wife pleaded 
with him in behalf of the anxious mother, and I added 
another five dollars to the temptation. A few minutes 
later we were beating our way through the tempest be- 
hind a fairly swift team. It was a wild, wet experi- 
ence, but we were at la.st in West Philadelphia, where 
I hurried to railroad headquarters. I found that no 
train was to be had that night, but that I could pro- 
cure a special engine for a hundred and fifty dollars. 
I knew that Mr. Hudson would at this hour be at his 
desk in the Herald office, and I soon made it known 
to him by wire that I had all the other correspond- 
ents corralled in a wreck, and that if he thought 
it worth while I would charter the engine and 
come on. 

Frederick Hudson never hesitated in a matter like 
that. Word came back to close the bargain, and within 
half an hour after I had reached Philadelphia I was 
on the way to New York, this time going at head- 
long speed through the night and rain. I remember 
that night as a weird race with time. Lights and sta- 
tions flashed by. Here and there we had to pause 
briefly for trains to pass, chafing impatiently as we 



220 A Sailor of Fortune 

waited, though for the most part they gave us an open 
track. 

At Jersey City were two carriages from the Herald, 
four men in one and three in the other. I handed out 
my great bundle of copy, and it was cut into " takes " 
on the way across the ferry, and presently we were 
going at a gallop up Cortland Street to the corner of 
Fulton and Nassau, where the Herald building then 
stood. 

It was near midnight when we reached the office. 
A gang of extra compositors had the matter in- 
stantly in hand, everything made way for the big 
story, and the most of it was on the street by daylight 
in the hands of eager thousands. But to the marooned 
correspondents, it must have made rather a discom- 
fiting story when they met it in the Herald on their 
arrival in Philadelphia that morning. Well, those 
were the days of great opportunities and many beats. 
The vast network of wires and the perfected system of 
the Associated Press have made great individual news 
achievements, to-day, few and far between. 

As a sequel, or rather a pendant to this episode, I 
may recall an incident with a certain gruesome 
humour in it, which occurred upon my return to For- 
tress Monroe, a few days later. I had with me many 
copies of the Herald with the lists of killed and 
wounded — fairly correct, considering the manner of 
compilation — and in the hospitals, where the thou- 
sands of wounded lay, the papers were seized with 
pathetic eagerness, every man anxious to see that his 
name was there. On one cot that I passed lay a man 
terribly wounded, his face already whitening with ap- 



The Seven Days' Battle 221 

preaching death. He told me his name, and I found 
it for him in the long list. He wanted to see it, and I 
pointed it out and held the paper in range of his eyes. 
He regarded it steadily for an instant, and then a tragic 
look which I shall never forget came into his face as 
he gasped out, 

" My God — after fighting — and dying — for your 
country — then to have your name — spelled wrong ! " 



XXXV 

I Join a Unique Naval Expedition 

THE victory of the little Monitor over the 
Merrimac — March 9th, 1862 — had marked 
the beginning of an epoch in the construc- 
tion of naval fighting machines. Our beautiful old 
wooden vessels — the splendid frigates, the handsome 
sloops of war and the swift, effective gunboats — began 
to be regarded with compassion and distrust, while 
the revolving turret of Theodore R. Timby, as com- 
bined by John Ericsson with a low-lying, ironclad hull 
— the " cheesebox on a raft '' — became all at once the 
centre of naval attention throughout the civilised 
world. 

That the " monitor " type of craft, as against other 
vessels, whether of wood or iron, was a potential 
agent of destruction, was certain. Whether such a ves- 
sel would stand the plunging fire of a land battery with 
heavy guns — whether her crew could endure the shock 
and strain of such a pounding, even supposing that 
the vessel could survive, these were questions much 
discussed and to be settled only by actual experiment. 
The test came, when in January, 1863, ^^^ monitor 
Montauk was sent against Fort McAllister, Georgia, 
in which historic demonstration it became my fortune 
to take an active part — to convey, as it were, the ver- 
dict which spelled the final doom of our beloved 

222 



Join a Naval Expedition 223 

" wooden walls " and destroyed forever the romance 
of naval warfare. 

After the test at Hampton Roads a number of the 
Ericsson vessels had been rapidly completed, and I 
had made one trial trip on the Passaic, which had 
resulted in a rather unsatisfactory test of her guns. 
I knew Ericsson well, intimately, in fact, and in the 
double capacity of seaman and reporter had frequently 
discussed his plans with him, offering here and there 
a suggestion, which was occasionally adopted. Still, 
I must confess I was far from enthusiastic concerning 
the new idea, and my brief experience in the Passaic 
did not cause me to fill with joy at the thought of 
being canned up in a box like that, during heavy 
action. 

I may add that my sentiments were shared by naval 
officers and men generally. The Monitor herself had 
not found it easy to get a crew, while of the available 
officers only stout-hearted John L. Worden had been 
willing to take command. His prompt victory over the 
Merrimac had made him the hero of the hour, though 
the fact that his head, or more particularly his eyes, 
had been injured by concussion was discouraging 
to volunteers for such service, and when the Montauk 
was ready for sea it was once more Lieutenant-Com- 
mander Worden who, despite his infirmities result- 
ing from the former experience, nobly accepted the 
command. 

The Montauk was put into commission at the Brook- 
lyn Navy Yard in December, 1862, and, whatever may 
have been my misgivings, I lost no time in applying 
to Commander Worden for the position of clerk and 



224 A Sailor of Fortune 

signal officer, and was duly appointed to fill the place. 
The little fighter left New York the day before Christ- 
mas, under convoy, touching at Hampton Roads, ar- 
riving at Port Royal, where Rear Admiral Dupont 
made his headquarters, coming to anchor, January 
19th, off Hilton Head, the scene of that rare naval 
spectacle of more than a year before. I did not make 
the trip South in the Montauk, for the reason that a 
Russian admiral had obtained permission to make the 
passage and there was no other spare berth in the ves- 
sel. I came down by the naval transport Circassian, 
arriving a day later, and January 20th, 1863, precisely 
a year from the day of my first meeting with Farra- 
gut, I reported to Rear Admiral Dupont, and received 
from him special instructions concerning my duties 
on the Montauk, When I was leaving he said, 

" Mr. Osbon, you are aware that Commander Wor- 
den's eyesight is defective owing to injuries received 
on board the Monitor. I shall expect you to be his 
eyes, and as his clerk to aid him in every possible way. 
The Montauk will be tested under heavy fire from 
earthworks, and we desire full information as to re- 
sults, for it is our purpose to use this type of vessel in 
reducing the defences of Charleston. Keep your eyes 
open and note all events, and the details of the working 
of ship and guns." 

I promised that I would faithfully set down every 
item that came under my personal observation. Then, 
the Russian admiral having vacated my premises, I 
reported to Commander Worden, aboard the Montauk. 

The destination of the expedition headed by the 
Montauk was the Ogeechee River, one of the several 



Join a Naval Expedition 225 

inlets just below Savannah, and our object was two- 
fold. As already shown, we were to test the new type 
of vessel under the fire of Fort McAllister, a heavy 
land battery located several miles up the Ogeechee ; but 
the chief purpose of our venture was to destroy or cap- 
ture the steamer Nashville, which, since that day off 
Charleston Bar when from the Harriet Lane we had 
sent across her bows the first shot of the war from 
the Union side, had become a Confederate blockade 
runner and commerce destroyer — in fact, a privateer. 
On November 19th she had captured and burned the 
ship Harvey Birch, and in February had burned the 
schooner Robert GilUllan. Later, she had wormed her 
way through the blockade into the Ogeechee, and now 
lay under the protection of the powerful guns of Fort 
McAllister, loaded with cotton and stores, waiting for 
a dark night, or a dense fog, to slip by the blockaders, 
and put to sea. Our wooden vessels could not hope to 
stand the fire of Fort McAllister nor expect to pass 
the network of piles, mines, and torpedoes which made 
a deadly barrier just below the works. It would have 
been wildly reckless, even had there been a possibility 
of success, to attempt, as at New Orleans, a passage 
of the fort, for the reason that only the Nashville lay 
beyond — ^game most important, but worth no such 
risk, and of no value to the enemy so long as she re- 
mained hemmed in. The Montauk, with her great 
eleven and fifteen-inch guns, was expected to silence 
the earthworks, to destroy the obstructions, and to 
capture or sink the pirate. We shall see how far these 
hopes were realised. 



XXXVI 

The First Encounter of Monitor and Fort 

IT was Saturday, January 24th, 1863, when we 
finally entered the mouth of the Ogeechee and 
came to anchor off Raccoon Island. During the 
voyage down I had made a careful inspection of the 
workings of the vessel, her guns and interior arrange- 
ments, and while my confidence in her fighting quali- 
ties, and in her ability to stand punishment momentarily 
increased, I was not favourably impressed with her 
provisions for the comfort of officers and crew. We 
were all so very close together and so near to various 
forms of death. Below the surface of the water, shut 
up in a metal box, with every sort of explosive packed 
about us, with no air except what came down through 
the turret — little enough even when distributed by 
steam fans — with no handy way to get out if some- 
thing should suddenly go off, or a valve should let in 
the ocean, or the steam fans should fail to work, cer- 
tainly this was unlike any navigation or warfare I 
had known. 

Our executive officer, Cushman, was a mathemati- 
cian. In fact, I have never seen such a fiend for figures. 
He must have carried off all the prizes at Annapolis, 
and he now carefully worked out for our edification 
the exact lung capacity of every man below decks, and 
to the fraction of a minute just how long each of us 

226 



Encounter of Monitor and Fort 227 

would last if the supply of oxygen suddenly ceased. 
He further demonstrated with startling accuracy pre- 
cisely how many seconds it would take the vessel to 
fill with water coming through a hole of a given size, 
and at a given pressure, according to the depth below 
the water line. Furthermore, he showed how this hole 
could be made, calculating with deadly skill the foot- 
pound energy of shot of every known diameter, with 
the precise indentation or perforation of an iron plate 
of any given angle or tensile strength. Cushman's fig- 
ures were satisfactory, but not comforting. They fasci- 
nated for a while, but eventually they lost him friends. 
We fell away from him when he produced his pencil 
and paper. Some of us took refuge in the turret or in 
the little pilot-house which surmounted it. Others 
risked their lives by going on deck. Anything was 
better than those figures. 

On the day after our arrival we took a position 
higher up the river, ofiF Marsh Island, just out of 
range of the enemy's guns. Our fleet now consisted 
of four vessels besides the Montank. We had with us 
two old friends from the Mississippi, the gunboat 
Wissahickon and the mortar schooner C. P. Williams; 
also the gunboat Dawn, commanded by " Johnnie " 
Barnes, a fine officer and a loyal friend, and the Seneca, 
drawn from the squadron at Port Royal. All were 
stripped for action, and the Montauk's decks, except 
for the turret with the little pilot-house atop, and the 
smokestack, were entirely clear. On the night of the 
25th Commander Davis of the Wissahickon went 
quietly up into the enemy's lines, shifted a number of 
range marks and destroyed a lookout pole. On the 



228 A Sailor of Fortune 

26th the Daffodil, the despatch boat from Port Royal, 
joined our fleet. 

We had by this time looked over the field pretty 
carefully and knew about what work lay ahead. Fort 
McAllister, named for the commander, a wealthy 
planter who lived close by, was a huge earthwork on 
a sharp bend of the river, and a little way beyond — 
loaded and ready to put to sea — the Nashville lay. Just 
below the fort, stretching across the river, with some- 
where an egress for the Nashville, were the obstruc- 
tions. The Montauk was to go up ahead and silence 
the fort. Then the gunboats would come up and we 
would proceed to clear the obstructions. Passing 
above, the capture of the Nashville — a rich prize, 
loaded as she was with cotton — would be easy. The 
plan was very simple, you see, with but one defect. 
We failed to estimate the power and durability of that 
fort. 

On the afternoon of the 26th the commanders of 
the gunboats came aboard the Montauk for a final 
council of war, and at five o'clock on the morning of 
the 27th we prepared to engage the enemy. 

It was a dull morning and too early for anybody 
to feel hungry. Besides, most of the Montaiik's crew 
had never been under fire — while no man living had 
ever taken the fire of a shore battery in a craft of that 
kind, and the new experience just ahead was not cal- 
culated to improve a man's appetite. Yet as a whole, 
we had faith in our craft and we knew that the eyes 
of the world were upon us. I think Worden had no 
doubt of the result, and the crew generally were cheer- 
ful and eager to get at the fighting. We might have 



Encounter of Monitor and Fort 229 

been a trifle less confident had we known the strength 
and skill of our enemy. 

We started tip the river at five minutes of seven, 
and by seven were going fast, the Seneca, Dawn, Wis- 
sahickon, and C. P. Williams following about a mile 
and a half astern. It was ebb tide and we steamed up 
grandly. All at once we passed a clump of trees, and 
the fort was in plain view. With Commander Wor- 
den in the pilot-house, was Pilot Murphy, a quarter- 
master to steer, and myself — close quarters for four 
men. Perhaps I ought to say that the pilot-house of a 
monitor was the embryo conning tower of to-day. It 
was solidly constructed of six plates of one-inch lami- 
nated iron and had slits for observation. Worden and 
I each had one of these peep holes. It was my duty 
not only to record the battle, but to give him ranges, 
and information which, owing to his defective vision, 
he could not compass with certainty. In fact, as Rear 
Admiral Dupont had said, I was to become " his eyes." 

No sign of life appeared in the fort as we approached 
— not even a flag. A small tug lay a little way above 
the obstructions, a thread of smoke coming from her 
stack, showing that she was ready to move. Evidently 
she had the torpedo wires and was waiting to fire them 
if we got in position. We steamed slower now — still 
not a soul to be seen on the works, which we began to 
think might be deserted. 

At 7.30 we were within fifteen hundred yards of the 
fort, and let go anchor. Five minutes later, at the 
word of command, the turret beneath us began slowly 
to revolve. A few moments and the big eleven-inch 
gun was at range, elevated for fifteen hundred yards. 



230 A Sailor of Fortune 

'' Stop ! '* and the turret came to a standstill. " Fire ! " 
and for an instant one's heart stood still, waiting. 
Then the floor of the pilot-house lifted and heaved and 
shook with the mighty roar of the gun a few inches 
beneath, and a moment later a great shell exploded 
just short of the enemy's works. 

I had never before stood on top of, or rather over, 
an eleven-inch gun when it was being fired, and the sen- 
sation was novel, to say the least. Then suddenly the 
fifteen-inch monster, which the boys had named 
" Heenan " (the other was called "Sayres"), went 
off, and the explosion of the world could hardly have 
been more startling. We knew now what to expect, 
and after that raised on our tiptoes at the word " Fire." 

But just here we discovered that the fortress was 
not abandoned. At 7.40 precisely there came a flash 
from up there and a well-aimed ten-inch shot struck 
us on the gunwale, raising a ruflled edge on one of the 
plates, but doing no damage. The hit made a great 
noise below, but its slight effect established confidence 
among the crew. 

We now loaded and fired as fast as possible, but did 
not at once get the ranges, owing to the new sort of 
gun practice. The wooden vessels, meantime, from 
some distance in the rear were piling in shell on the 
fort in excellent style, and the battle was on in ear- 
nest. It was to us, almost entirely, that the fort de- 
voted its attention. Above and about us shells exploded, 
rattling against our armour, making an infernal 
racket, but doing little or no harm. The smoke got 
very thick about the pilot-house, blowing in at the peep 
holes, and annoying Worden so that presently he went 



Encounter of Monitor and Fort 231 

below to inspect the working of the turret and to note 
the effect of the heavy guns upon the vessel, leaving 
me to communicate the ranges and length of time 
fuses to Mr. Cushman in the turret below. Once as I 
was about to call to him through the grating, a heavy 
shot from the fort struck the turret a terrible blow^ 
making such a noise as I think none of us had ever 
heard before in our lives. 

" Hey, Cushman," I called, " can you calculate the 
foot-pound energy of that shot? " 

He did not reply to the question, but the boys be- 
low told me afterward that when he recovered his 
equilibrium he instinctively reached for his pencil and 
paper. 

We now realised that we had underestimated our 
enemy. Our ammunition was running low, and while 
we had pounded the works severely and made a good 
deal of sand fly, we had apparently done little harm. 
Shot and shell came as thickly as ever, fired with un- 
erring accuracy. For once my rule of gunnery on land 
and sea was being proven by the exception. At 10.35 
we swung into better position, but it was no use. We 
could accomplish little without more ammunition, and 
at noon, when our last shells were nearly gone, we 
weighed anchor and dropped down the stream, fol- 
lowed by farewell volleys, among which a thirty-two 
pounder hit the turret fairly. An hour later we were at 
our anchorage, counting our scars. We had fifteen 
hits, altogether. The gunboats were untouched. 

On the whole, everybody was very happy. We had 
accomplished little in the way of damage to the en- 
emy, but we had enjoyed a forenoon of fine target 



232 A Sailor of Fortune 

practice, and, more than all, we had demonstrated the 
fact that the Ericsson monitor would stand the heavy 
fire of land batteries. We had perfect faith now in our 
iron vessel. She worked like a charm, and she had 
come through a fearful pounding, all the better for it, 
we said, for now her plates were more securely ham- 
mered on. In fact we were in high spirits, cracking 
jokes and laughing at the curious spectacle we made 
with our powder-blackened faces, and were so rejoiced 
to be once more in the fresh air that I think we hardly 
realised how fully we had revolutionised the navies of 
the world. 



XXXVII 

Another Trial at Fort McAllister 

FIVE days elapsed before we were ready for a 
second attack. The Daffodil went to and fro 
between Marsh Island and Port Royal, bring- 
ing down ammunition and necessary supplies. From 
contrabands we heard various reports, among them a 
rumour that the Confederate ironclad, Fingal, was 
expected to take part in the next engagement. We 
gave little attention to such intelligence, and spent 
most of our time filling the great shells for " Heenan " 
and " Sayers," those of " Heenan " weighing three 
hundred and sixty-five pounds each — the soHd shot 
thirty-five pounds more. 

Our friends, the enemy, were likewise busy. The 
little tug was going about all day putting down tor- 
pedoes, helping with repairs and assisting the Nash- 
ville, which had come back down the Seven Mile 
Reach and lay once more just above the fort. We 
could see her from the mastheads of the gunboats, 
and knew that she was still piling on cotton, hoping 
that by some trickery, or assistance, she would be able 
to get by us in the dark. It was her greediness for 
cotton that proved her downfall, as we shall see. 

On the 29th a little bird lingered about our decks 
all day, very tame and friendly, and the sailors thought 
it a good omen. In the evening we heard a heavy gun 

233 



234 A Sailor of Fortune 

go off from the works, and concluded that the enemy 
had mounted and was trying a new gun. Later we dis- 
covered a bright light near where we had anchored. 
Evidently we were to have a proper reception this 
time. 

On the next day the Confederates burned off the 
rice and brush fields back of the fort, doubtless expect- 
ing a land attack in that quarter. On the 31st the 
Daffodil came down with a final load of ammunition 
and two army officers, who were anxious to see the 
fight. We were ready now for the second attack, our 
plans being this time to go much nearer to the works, 
and by rapid, well-directed fire to silence and destroy 
the battery. 

It was 5.30 when all hands were called on the morn- 
ing of Sunday, February ist, 1863, and again there 
was a light breakfast in prospect of, and preparation 
for, the fight. There was a real Sunday quiet on the 
river and the land about, and then the old feeling of 
going into action, as usual, made us a trifle solemn. 

It was not that there was any distrust of our vessel 
this time, though to be sure we were to stand a test 
at much shorter range, but there is always something 
peculiar in the sensation a man has going into battle 
aboard ship. He has usually known of the impending 
engagement for hours, even days, ahead. The situa- 
tion has been discussed from every conceivable point 
of view. Every possibility, even that of defeat, has 
been considered, and, if possible, certain letters have 
been written home. Then at last it is the mo- 
ment of starting. A sharp order is given, and 
the anchor chains click in the windlass. The crew bus- 



Trial at Fort McAllister 235 

ties — a rapid walking goes on about the decks. A bell 
in the engine room jingles, the vessel moves. There 
begins a rushing sound of water along her sides. All 
these are accustomed sounds and movements, but there 
is always a different note and a special significance in 
them when the ship is going into battle. Even the 
lamps below burn with a peculiar glare. A glass of 
water has a different taste. One finds that he is ner- 
vously impatient. Why doesn't the first gun go off and 
begin it all? Then, suddenly the enemy opens — a shot 
strikes the vessel, or tears through the rigging. Why 
don't we fire ? Why in hell don't we fire ? Click ! goes 
a gunlock — Snap! goes a primer, and there is a tre- 
mendous report which shakes the vessel and wakes it 
to new and sudden life. There is no more hesitation, 
no more nervousness, no more cold sweat. One sud- 
denly becomes a fierce, eager creature with the energy 
of a demon. The engagement has begun. 

Our battle of February ist was a repetition of our 
former action, much intensified. We went up within 
six hundred yards of the works this time, where we 
could look directly into the muzzles of the guns. The 
gunboats lay considerably lower down. At 7.45 we 
opened with our fifteen-inch gun, and then for four 
hours there was such a cannonade between fort and 
fleet as the world had never seen. Their markmanship 
was something superb and we were hit continually in 
every quarter. Shells hit the turret and pilot-house, 
bursting into showers of fragments. Then presently 
the smoke became so dense that neither side could 
see, and both slackened fire until the air cleared. Im- 
mediately afterward, the fort opened with greater 



236 A Sailor of Fortune 

accuracy than ever, and we were literally peppered 
with shot and shell. So deafening was the noise of 
their heavy projectiles at that short, deadly range that 
I have not recovered my full hearing to this day. 

At 8.30 I was down on one knee making a note, 
when a tremendous blow on the pilot-house loosened 
some of the plate bolts, one of which struck me on the 
shoulder, while another displaced my kneecap (the 
same one I had unshipped in the Gautemala several 
years before) and broke two of my ribs. 

I was half stunned and my leg was well-nigh useless, 
but it was not until we had ceased firing^ that I made 
my way below decks for surgical examination. The 
enemy, however, was not through with me. I was 
standing in the wardroom, by the surgeon's command, 
with my head just below the deck, when a shell struck 
fair and square exactly above me, and over I went. 
They thought I was done for then, but in a few min- 
utes I regained consciousness, was patched up, and 
went on with my notes. 

I found the noise even louder down there. Shells 
striking the pilot-house had sounded like the cracking 
of gigantic nuts. Here, when a shell struck it was 
more like the cracking of one's skull. Besides, I sup- 
pose I wasn't feeling quite well, which made a dif- 
ference.* 

But our boys didn't seem to mind anything. Black 

* Frederic Hudson, in his " History of Journalism in the 
United States," page 716, speaking of the arduous work of 
Herald correspondents in the field and afloat, says : ** Osbon, 
of the same paper, the only correspondent on the ironclads in 
action, calmly watched the effect of each impact, and 
as signal officer, in the rigging with Farragut, ran the gauntlet 



Trial at Fort McAllister 237 

as demons, they laughed and joked and rolled in the 
big shells, and sent them with a jeer at the powerful 
earthworks which we were pounding and smashing, 
though to little purpose for, with the exception of one 
gun which we had blown into the air and one man 
killed by a needless and derisive exposure of himself 
on the parapet, their armament and force would seem 
to have suffered not at all. Once more, at noon, with 
our ammunition exhausted, we were drifting down to 
our old anchorage, where everybody came aboard to 
see how we had stood the fight. We were as good as 
new, despite the fact that we had received forty-eight 
shots this time — nineteen on the turret and pilot-house, 
seven in the smokestack, which looked like a pepper 
box, while two of our flagstaffs had been shot away. 
We had accomplished nothing at all so far as the 
Nashville was concerned, but we had gained a knowl- 
edge of our invulnerability which we accounted as 
worth millions. 

at New Orleans. ... If the Press had ribbons and orders 
to confer for gallant conduct on the field of battle, these corre- 
spondents would have their breasts covered with brilliants on 
state occasions ; but their decorations shine in the columns of 
the papers, where they are imperishable." — A. B. P. 



XXXVIII 
We Get the Nashville at Last 

WE now became simply a blockading fleet, 
and for four weeks lay off Marsh Island, 
waiting for something to turn up. We had 
about given up the idea of reducing the fort without 
more heavy guns, and a relay of monitors was expected 
to take part in the next engagement. Twice during 
the month I went up to Port Royal with the Daffodil, 
for ammunition, and to carry despatches to Rear Ad- 
miral Dupont, who was deeply interested in talking 
over with me the more minute incidents of the two 
engagements. Dupont, however, prohibited my for- 
warding any portion of the story to the Herald until 
the operations on the Ogeechee should be at an end. 
He explained his reasons to me, which were chiefly 
that any preliminary report of our experimental work 
might be of benefit to the enemy as well as ourselves, 
and he embodied his objections in an official letter to 
Worden, in which he put a taboo on reporters gener- 
ally. This, as he explained to me, was done in order 
that he might show a copy of the letter to the flock of 
newspaper men who were constantly besieging him for 
permission to accompany the various expeditions. I 
was entirely in accord with the admiral's views, 
and agreed to send nothing to the paper without his 
approval. 

The Nashville, meantime, had kept her position, 

238 



We Get the Nashville 239 

just above the fort and, though we did not know it, 
was held there by lower tides and the fact that she was 
so deeply laden that it made it difficult for her to cross 
the bar which separated her from the " Seven Mile 
Reach." She was by no means a welcome guest of the 
fort. Colonel McAllister, as we learned later, declared 
that so long as she lay there those " damned Yankees " 
were likely to come up and annoy them, and it was by 
his orders that the vessel at length essayed to get back 
into the " Reach " — an attempt which became her 
undoing. 

At three o'clock on the afternoon of February 27th 
the Wissahickon signalled " Strange sail or steamer 
up the river," and immediately afterward we saw the 
dense black smoke of the Nashville behind the forest 
which shut off Fort McAllister from our view. The 
smoke got blacker, and we saw that the vessel was 
moving rapidly toward the Reach. Then suddenly she 
stopped, dead still. We speculated as to the cause, 
quickly arriving at the conclusion that she was 
aground. The Seneca was immediately sent to recon- 
noitre, and brought back the joyful news that the 
Nashville was, in truth, hard and fast on the bar, and 
that she was not likely to get off, having gone on at 
full speed and at the top of the tide. 

We were greatly rejoiced. It was too late to do 
anything that evening, but we felt confident that our 
prey would be there next morning, and we prepared 
for early battle. To capture the Nashville would mean 
the end of our long waiting, and with her cargo of 
cotton, big prize money was possible. There was anx- 
ious watching and little sleep in the vessels that night. 



240 A Sailor of Fortune 

On the morning of February 28th, at four o'clock 
sharp, we were called, and at 5.20 were under way. 
We ate little or no breakfast at all, this time. Like a 
darkey with a new pair of shoes, we were too much 
excited for breakfast, and a little coffee and hardtack 
was the most that anybody took. 

There was a haze on the river, and we steamed 
slowly to avoid new obstructions. At 7.05 we let go 
anchor about twelve hundred yards below the fort, 
and about the same distance from the Nashville, lying 
across the bend. There, indeed, she lay, hard and fast 
aground, the hasty unloading and the sturdy labours 
of the little tug, which had been going on through the 
night, having failed to relieve her. She was a fair 
mark and knew that she was doomed, and when we 
sent toward her now, an envoy of death in the form of 
a screaming eleven-inch shell, those who had not al- 
ready deserted her, fled hastily, leaving her to her fate. 

The battery on shore replied, but we paid no atten- 
tion, letting their shells fall where they would. They 
did not even annoy us now, and when a solid shot hit 
the pilot-house and broke in two, we scarcely remarked 
the incident. It was only our prey, the beautiful 
steamer that two years before I had seen cross the 
Charleston Bar and fling out the Stars and Stripes at 
our shot of warning, lying there at last in plain view, 
that we wanted now. It seems a little sad, to-day, that 
the beautiful vessel had to go, but we had no pity, then. 

At first we overshot the mark. I had called the dis- 
tance at twelve hundred yards, while Cushman, the 
man of mathematics, had held for fifteen. We had a 
sharp dispute, which Worden settled by ordering the 



We Get the Nashville 241 

first guns trained at an elevation just between our 
figures. But it was too far, and the distance was 
gradually shortened down to my figure. Cushman 
had perfect mathematics, but his judgment of distance 
was faulty. 

At twenty-two minutes after seven we landed a fif- 
teen-inch shell close to the Nashville, and five and one- 
half minutes later we sent another — it was our fifth 
shot — smashing into her hull, just between the fore- 
mast and paddlebox. Almost immediately followed the 
explosion. Acting Master Pierre Geraud was working 
both guns finely, considering that from his position 
in the turret below only the masts and smokestack of 
the vessel could be seen. We were proud to show the 
enemy that we had a gunner, too. They gave us up, 
presently, and directed their fire at the wooden gun- 
boats. Smoke settled about us, and after the eighth 
shot we ceased firing, to let the air clear. Presently a 
breath of wind swept the drift aside, and we saw to 
our great joy a dense column of smoke rising from the 
forward deck of the stranded vessel. Our exploding 
shell had set her on fire. A few minutes more, and 
flames were distinctly visible, forcing their way up, 
gradually creeping aft until they had reached nearly 
to the base of the smokestack. 

A fog came drifting down on us, threatening to 
shut out the glorious sight, but it lifted every other 
moment like a curtain, and it showed us presently, 
with each uplifting, a wonderful spectacle of leaping 
flames that shot higher and higher into a smoky can- 
opy above them. The masts and smokestack were stand- 
ing. Then the guys of the latter loosened — it tottered, 



242 A Sailor of Fortune 

fell, striking the port paddlebox, sending up a great 
shower of glowing embers that rose and mingled with 
the blackness above the doomed vessel. The rigging 
caught and became torches and festoons of fire. At in- 
tervals the flames would rush in a body aft and die 
out forward, as if the destroyer were racing to and fro 
in the joy of carnival. Nothing but darkness could 
have added grandeur to the scene. 

We fired occasionally, until it became evident that 
we could not aid materially in the destruction wrought 
by the flames. At 8.06 we ceased altogether, having 
fired but fourteen times. We lingered to watch the 
spectacle, and presently from the shore a mighty white 
smoke of burning cotton rose to mingle with the 
darker clouds from the blazing vessel, and thus van- 
ished all hope of prize money, though little we cared 
in that moment of triumph, with our enemy perishing 
before us, no more to give us anxious nights, no more 
to wreck our commerce on the high seas. 

We had weighed anchor and were already drifting 
down the river, when there came from the burning 
vessel a heavy report, the bursting of a gun, perhaps, 
and then a little later a terrific explosion, aft, where 
her magazine lay, and the end had come. Only a few 
charred fragments remained of the vessel, once lovely 
in form and of fair and peaceful purpose, to be doomed 
at last to become a drift of cinders and a heap of tan- 
gled wires. In the earliest day of her career I had seen 
the first shot of warning, and I had seen the last that 
had sent her to her death. Beautiful craft that she was, 
she deserved a better fate ! 

We drifted down the river, now, rejoicing greatly 



We Get the Nashville 243 

that our mission was accomplished. Then all at once 
our enthusiasm received a sudden chill. Just under our 
hull there was a sound as of a double explosion, and a 
few minutes later the water rushed in. We had struck 
a torpedo and sprung a leak. 

For a few minutes matters looked pretty serious. 
Then our pilot put us on a sandbar, we plugged up the 
hole, pumped out the water and went on, little the 
worse for the damage. Down the river the gunboats 
cheered wildly as we passed. When we had reached 
anchor and had enjoyed a real breakfast, everybody 
came aboard to congratulate us on having completed 
our mission, and especially on having withstood the 
heaviest and most accurate land fire known, receiving 
in the three engagements seventy-two hits, besides that 
from the torpedo, yet coming off with no damage 
worth mentioning. By six o'clock that evening we 
were again in fighting trim, and when three days later 
the Passaic, Patapsco, and Nahant, three more moni- 
tors, came down from Port Royal to get their baptism 
of fire and a day's target practice with Fort McAl- 
lister, our boys were aggrieved because we were con- 
demned to be mere spectators on that occasion. 

Yet there was a certain comfort in being able to wit- 
ness a monitor battle without being choked up in a 
turret or pilot-house, and I think we all enjoyed it. 
Our decks were covered with men, watching our three 
sister monitors hammer away to their heart's content. 
There were plenty of good hits on both sides, but the 
fine Confederate earthworks remained unsilenced, and 
our monitors came out of the fight undamaged, having 
only demonstrated still more thoroughly that the 



244 A Sailor of Fortune 

Ericsson idea was to transform the navies of the 
world. 

We were now through on the Ogeechee, for, with 
the Nashville destroyed, the fort was no longer worth 
the ammunition and effort it would take to conquer it, 
and I hurried to Port Royal with the remainder of 
my story. 

To say that Rear Admiral Dupont was gratified 
at the reports of our destruction of the Nashville, con- 
veys a poor idea of his satisfaction. The vessel had 
been a thorn in his soul for many months. There had 
been continual rumours that he had allowed her to 
escape, and to know now with certainty that she had 
been reduced to ashes and a heap of scrap, at the bot- 
tom of the Seven Mile Reach, filled him with supreme 
joy. He greeted me with the greatest warmth, and 
when he had finished reading* my letter and had made 
a copy of it in full, for his own use, he returned it to 
me with permission to use it exactly as written. 

*'' There is your letter," he said, with that courtesy 
of manner which made all men honour and love him, 
" it has been of the utmost value to me. And here is 
an order to Captain Hoey of the Mary Sanford for 
your passage North. You have also my thanks for 
faithful service.'* * 



* Port Royal, S. C, March 7th, 1863. 
Sir: — You will please give passage to B. S. Osbon, formerly 
attached to the Montauk to New York. 

Yours respectfully, 

S. F. DUPONT, 

Rear Admiral Commanding South Atlantic Squadron. 
To Captain Hoey, 

Steamer Mary Sanford. 



We Get the Nashville 245 

Commander Worden conveyed his acknowledg- 
ments to me, next day, in the form of a letter : 

Port Royal, S. C, 

Mar. 8, 1863. 
B. S. Osbon. 

Dear Sir : I take great pleasure in acknowledging the 
useful services rendered me as acting captain's clerk and 
as signal officer, for which latter service you volunteered, 
and in which you displayed great courage during the 
recent operations of this vessel in the Ogeechee River. 
In the two attacks made upon Fort McAllister on Jan- 
uary 27th and February ist, your services in observing 
the ranges of the guns and noting events that occurred, 
which were of great advantage to me, as my defective 
eyesight rendered my own observation very unsatisfac- 
tory.* Wishing you health and prosperity I am, 

Yours very truly, 

John L. Worden, 
Commander U. S. N., Commanding Montauk. 

Four days later I was in New York City, after pass- 
ing through a severe storm, and on the next day, 
March 13th, my Montauk story and map appeared in 
the Herald^ making a full front and the greater por- 
tion of an inside page. As the report of an epoch- 
making event it was translated into almost every lan- 
guage of Europe and, significantly, into one of Asia — 
Japanese. It was the final death warrant of our 
wooden navies. We had loved them well, but the old 

* Commander Worden's head was troubling him at this time, 
to which fact was doubtless due the oversight of failing to men- 
tion my participation in the action of February 28th, when the 
Nashville was destroyed. 



246 A Sailor of Fortune 

order had changed. The ** wooden walls " tottered, the 
iron hull with its revolving turret — the " cheese box 
on a raft " — had battled its way into the world's con- 
fidence. Yet to-day, it, too, has passed. The order still 
changes. From the Ericsson idea have been evolved the 
great war vessels of to-day, with their mighty guns, 
their turrets, and their conning towers. Our ships 
have come back to us, with walls of steel — their pigmy 
progenitors are no more. 

The Monitor lies off Cape Hatteras beneath a hun- 
dred fathoms of water. The Montauk was sold at auc- 
tion in 1904, and went into the scrap heap. I have 
always thought the Government should have preserved 
her. I should have done so myself had I had the 
means. 



XXXIX 

Mr. Fox Catches His Game at Last 

UPON my return from the Ogeechee I made 
another brief but profitable venture into the 
lecture field. I announced that I would give a 
talk at Niblo's Garden on " Fighting with Iron Ves- 
sels/' and a large crowd gathered to hear me. Captain 
Ericsson made me a number of chalk drawings on a 
blackboard — diagrams and the like — all remarkable 
for their beauty and detail — various shipbuilders con- 
tributed a number of fine models ; and I told the story 
of the battles of the Montauk, with a net result of nine 
hundred dollars for this one lecture. 

Nor was this the only lecture I gave that day — the 
first having been delivered to the smallest audience I 
ever entertained, and at the highest price of admis- 
sion. Niblo's Garden was then owned by the great 
merchant, A. T. Stewart, who with a friend had 
dropped in during the morning. Noticing the draw- 
ings and models, he had asked what they were to 
illustrate. 

I happened to overhear the question, and replied, 
" They are to be used in my lecture on monitors and 
their fighting value. Having served in one, I am go- 
ing to give a talk on the subject. If you will sit down 
for a moment I will give you some idea of what I 
intend to say." 

Mr. Stewart and his friend sat down willingly 

247 



248 A Sailor of Fortune 

enough, and I spent about twenty minutes in telling 
them the story of the Montauk. When I had finished 
they thanked me and went away. I called next morn- 
ing at Mr. Stewart's store to pay for the rent of the 
hall, the price of which was one hundred dollars. 
iWhen I had settled this matter with the cashier, I was 
told that Mr. Stewart desired to see me, and a little 
later was ushered into his private office. He was very 
cordial and asked me if I had done well with my lec- 
ture — once more thanking me for the entertainment 
of the day before. He then bade me good-morning, 
and as I passed out the cashier handed me my receipt 
for the hall rent and with it a sealed envelope. When 
I was out on the street I opened the envelope with 
some curiosity, expecting possibly the price of two 
tickets, certainly not more, for Mr. Stewart had the 
name of being somewhat parsimonious. What was my 
surprise and gratification to find nice new bills to the 
amount of one hundred dollars. Mr. Stewart had re- 
mitted my fine. 

I have now arrived at the sequel to the Fort Sumter 
episode — the unhappy result of having omitted from 
my report of that expedition, by his own request, the 
name of Gustavus V. Fox, later Assistant Secretary 
of the Navy. As we have already seen, the relief ex- 
pedition had been Fox's idea, and a failure. He had 
expected public censure on his return, and as a special 
favour to him I had omitted his name from my news 
report. When, therefore, the patriotic public rose up 
and bestowed honour upon the expedition and all con- 
nected therewith, the friends of Mr. Fox naturally in- 
quired why he had received no mention in my article. 



Mr. Fox Catches His Game 249 

He declared that he could not explain my motive, 
whereupon I promptly stated the facts in full, with the 
result that Fox became very bitter, using his influence 
as Assistant Secretary to oppose and handicap me in 
my work, even seeking to discredit me with Secretary 
Welles. Eventually his opportunity to punish me came. 
It happened in this wise : 

Frederic Hudson retired from the management of 
the Herald J and during the latter part of 1864 I, also, 
resigned my position on that paper to establish a 
bureau of naval intelligence, from which I sent news 
to various journals, both in New York City and else- 
where, this being one of the first news syndicates — 
^he very first, so far as I know. Being in touch with 
the officers in the various squadrons, news came to 
me freely — commanders sometimes sending advance 
news, with the request that it should not be used until 
officially reported by the Government. It was late in 
December, 1864, when the combined attack by land 
and sea was to be made on Fort Fisher, North Caro- 
lina, and several days in advance Admiral Porter for- 
warded me his final order of battle, from which I had 
prepared a carefully written preliminary story of the 
operations. This, manifolded, had been sent out to 
fifteen or twenty papers, with the express understand- 
ing that it was not to be published until news of the 
actual attack had been received. Every paper stood by 
the agreement but one. A rumour of an attack was 
circulated, and one journal in its desire to be 
*' prompt " did not wait for verification, but printed 
my matter in full. 

This was Mr. Fox's opportunity. Technically I had 



250 A Sailor of Fortune 

violated the Fifty-ninth Article of War, and by the 
assistant secretary's orders I was arrested, charged 
with having given inteUigence to the enemy. On the 
first day of January, 1865 — two weeks before the bat- 
tle really took place — I was taken into custody at my 
office in New York City, and without being allowed to 
communicate with any of my friends, was hurried to 
Washington and confined in the old Capitol Prison, 
where many a better man than I suffered long and 
ignominious imprisonment to satisfy the pique of some 
public official. 

It was three months from the day of my imprison- 
ment before I saw daylight again. Then, one rainy 
morning, I was escorted by two soldiers to the head- 
quarters of the Military Commission, where I refused 
to plead to the charge of furnishing the enemy with 
information, suggesting that they shoot me first and 
try me afterward, as had been done in the case of two 
of my predecessors. I was taken back to my cell, and 
Senator Charles Sumner, whom I had never met, in- 
terested himself in my case, with the result that, 
though I still remained in limbo, the Military Com- 
mission was abolished. 

Meantime my father came to Washington and vis- 
ited me in prison, asking me immediately if I was 
guilty. 

I replied that I had done no intentional wrong, that, 
whatever else I might be, I was not a traitor to my 
country. 

My father then went up to the White House and 
told my story to Mr. Lincoln, who listened attentively, 
and said: 



Mr. Fox Catches His Game 251 

" Doctor, your son is not a traitor. I know him 
well — he couldn't be. My advice is to have him stand 
trial, by all means. If they do manage to convict him, 
which I don't believe they will, I will see that he is 
not shot." 

My father came back with the news that Mr. Lin- 
coln had agreed to stand by me, which was most com- 
forting, for months of confinement in a wretched cell 
take the cheer out of the strongest heart. 

A few days later I was called downstairs and told 
to pack my belongings. There being no longer a Mili- 
tary Court in Washington, I was to be taken to New 
York for trial. Arriving in that city, I was conducted 
first to General Dix's headquarters in Bleecker Street, 
thence to Ludlow Street Jail, where I was made com- 
paratively comfortable and treated with unusual con- 
sideration, for the story of my unjust arrest and 
incarceration had been exhaustively published in the 
New York papers. General Dix, always a good friend, 
had given orders that I was to be brought to see him 
whenever I wished to come, and I visited him often. 
Then one morning my trial by court-martial began, 
and for several days I was a figure of national interest 
— the papers everywhere commenting freely on what 
they declared was an unjustifiable proceeding on the 
part of public officials — one paper, the Tribune, assert- 
ing that it had cost the Government sixty thousand 
dollars to try an innocent man. The farce closed at 
last, with a verdict of acquittal — a fortunate one for 
me, for, during the days of my trial, that great and 
noble man who had promised to stand by me — Abra- 
ham Lincoln, the man whom of all others I shall most 



252 A Sailor of Fortune 

revere to my dying day — was shot down, and his body 
taken through New York City without my being able 
to pay any small tribute to his sacred dust. 

When everything was over, and I was a free man 
once more, an old shipbuilder whom I had known for 
many years called me to his office one day and handed 
me a package. 

" This is a little testimonial," he said, " from your 
friends in this city. Take it and go into the country 
and recuperate." 

The package contained five thousand dollars in cash. 



XL 

I Become a Part of the Mexican Problem 

I HAVE already briefly referred to the allied fleets 
of England, France, and Spain which in Feb- 
ruary, 1862, were lying in Havana Harbour, their 
purpose being to compel payment of the very large 
sums due from the Mexican Republic, with the ul- 
terior motive of usurpation, on the part of France. It 
is true that England and Spain withdrew from the 
alliance when the French scheme became evident, but 
not before they had given force and character to the 
expedition, which was precisely as the wily French 
sovereign had planned. 

Like his great uncle, Napoleon HI. was ambitious 
of conquest. He saw in Mexico a vast empire over 
which he would exercise suzerainty, and so command 
a key position in the Western World. With the Mexi- 
can Republic in so chaotic a state as it was in the early 
sixties, and with the United States in no position to 
enforce the Monroe Doctrine, the French ruler with- 
out much difficulty bore down upon the disordered 
Government of Benito Juarez, and in 1864 established 
the so-called Mexican Empire — seating a ruler of his 
own selection, Ferdinand Joseph Maximilian of Aus- 
tria, on the throne. 

The story of Prince Maximilian and his beautiful 
wife, Carlotta of Belgium, is one of the saddest in all 

253 



254 A Sailor of Fortune 

history. They were ideally wed and lived in perfect 
happiness in one of the most beautiful of European 
castles, Miramar, on the Adriatic, near Trieste. Maxi- 
milian had been admiral of the Austrian Navy and gov- 
ernor of the Lombardo- Venetian kingdom, filling each 
office with great honour, beloved by those about him. 
He was not averse to official duties, yet preferred lit- 
erary and philanthropic pursuits, and the Princess 
Carlotta was in full sympathy with his every aim and 
enterprise. It was to Miramar that the commissioners 
of Napoleon came to invite Maximilian to accept the 
throne of Mexico, urging upon him the plea that he 
was the one man to lift up and regenerate a fallen peo- 
ple. More than all else, Maximilian loved the distinc- 
tion of being regarded as a benefactor, an ambition 
shared by his princess, who, furthermore, was perhaps 
dazzled a little by the pleasing prospect of a crown. 
The Austrian prince agreed that he would accept the 
proffered throne if the people of Mexico themselves 
wanted him, and means were found to assure him that 
such was the fact. It was in May, 1864, that he en- 
tered into his empire, assuming the title of Maxi- 
milian I. 

His triumph was short lived. Though vanquished 
and disorganised, a very large element of the Mexican 
people were still loyal to Benito Juarez, and from the 
very beginning Maximilian had to battle for his 
throne. Furthermore, he was steadfastly ignored by 
the Government of the United States, while Napoleon, 
who had counted on the South as his chief ally, began 
to realise with each succeeding Northern victory that 
the tenure of empire in Mexico was becoming an un- 



The Mexican Problem 255 

certain and precarious thing. The future was obscure 
and portentous for the new ruler and his lovely em- 
press, and each day added a darker cloud. 

Finally, in 1866, affairs in Mexico reached a crisis. 
Our own war was ended, and with a vast host of 
veterans and a splendid army and navy, we were in a 
position to make and enforce demands. True to the 
Monroe Doctrine, the United States suggested to Napo- 
leon, diplomatically but forcibly, that French interfer- 
ence in Mexico was an affront to American institutions, 
no longer to be countenanced — in a word, that his 
troops must be withdrawn. Napoleon was further given 
to understand in no uncertain terms that the United 
States would, if necessary, cooperate with the sup- 
porters of Juarez, the Liberals, in their efforts to over- 
throw French and Austrian dominion on Mexican 
soil. 

The French Emperor was in no position to resist. 
Though by various evasions seeking to defer the final 
day, he did not fail to realise that the end of his Mexi- 
can empire was at hand, and he urged Maximilian to 
abdicate. This the latter refused to do. He was no 
fair weather ruler. Brave, unselfish, and still deluded, 
he believed in the full justice of his cause, and that 
the uplifting, and final salvation, of Mexico depended 
on his courage and the maintenance of a paternal, 
though imperial, power. 

It was just at this point that I became, in some 
measure at least, a part of the Mexican problem. After 
several months of rest, succeeding the trying days of 
my enforced retirement, I had once more established 
my news bureau, with almost the entire support of the 



256 A Sailor of Fortune 

New York City press. The Tribune, the Times, the 
Sun, and others gave me their patronage. Horace 
Greeley was particularly forceful in his denunciation 
of my accusers, and I can see him now as he turned 
from writing at his high stand-up desk to grasp my 
hand and to give vent to his feelings in some good 
Anglo-Saxon phrases. Matters started off smoothly, 
and with fair prospects ahead I supposed I was on 
shore this time for good. Certainly I had no notion 
of any immediate personal connection with naval 
affairs. 

But the future is full of surprises. I was at this time 
boarding in the old brownstone mansion at 216 East 
17th Street, and in the same house was a Mr. Tifft, 
of the firm of Corliss & Tifft, bankers. I knew Mr. 
Tifft well, and one day he presented me to a new guest, 
General Jose M. Carvajal, of Mexico. In due time I 
learned that General Carvajal was one of those who 
had been commissioned by President Juarez to raise 
funds in this country, and that Corliss & Tifft had 
undertaken to float a Mexican loan. I was now invited 
to become press agent, and through my bureau I dis- 
tributed a vast quantity of printed matter, also send- 
ing out a news story of General Carvajal's presence 
in the United States, of his mission and his needs^ — 
concluding with the statement that he was about to 
float a loan, to which all patriotic persons who desired 
to support the Monroe Doctrine should subscribe. 

Our efforts were successful. The public resented the 
French interference and declared in a substantial man- 
ner that Maximilian must go. For the man himself 
there was no enmity — only compassion. It was what 



The Mexican Problem 257 

he represented on American soil that we could not 
tolerate. The Mexican loan was floated in due season. 

Meantime, I had naturally become very friendly 
with General Carvajal, and he had frequently dis- 
cussed with me certain proposed naval operations. 
Eventually he suggested that we visit Washington to- 
gether, and upon our arrival there asked me to intro- 
duce him to David G. Farragut, who had just been 
made an admiral and was then at the Capital. It was 
in the old Navy Department building that we met 
Farragut, and here I introduced the two distinguished 
men, who at once fell into conversation upon army 
and navy matters and the problems which those of 
Mexico presented. At last General Carvajal said: 

" Admiral, I am looking for a man to command the 
Navy of my country. Can you recommend to me such 
a person? " 

Farragut reflected an instant, then, turning to me, 
laid his hand on my shoulder. 

"Why not Osbon, General?" he asked. "I think 
he's just the man you want." 

General Carvajal thanked him and seemed pleased. 
Then we made our adieus to the admiral and left the 
building together. As we were going down the steps 
I said: 

" General, you brought me before Farragut to get 
his indorsement." 

" That is a correct guess," he replied ; " I did." 

Yet I wished him to be fully satisfied in all par- 
ticulars that I was the man for the place, and some- 
what later wrote a letter to my old commanding 
officer of steam shipping days. Captain John Mc- 



258 A Sailor of Fortune 

Gowan, asking him to express an opinion as to my 
qualifications. Captain McGowan was now in the 
Revenue Service, and he replied in due season, as 
follows : 

Treasury Department. 

Washington, D. C, Sept. 25th, 1866. 
Mr. B. S. Osbon served under my command as (third, 
second, and chief) officer on board the steamships Illinois, 
St. Louis, and Moses Taylor, during which time he gave 
me the fullest satisfaction. He is intelligent, active, ener- 
getic and prompt in obeying orders, which are sure signs 
that he will make a good commander. I have no hesita- 
tion in recommending him to fill any position on board 
of any class of vessel, as his conduct during the time he 
has been under my command is a sufficient guarantee. he 
will not be found wanting when active service is required. 

John McGowan, 

Commander, U. S. Revenue Service. 



XLI 

The Creation of a Navy 

IMMEDIATELY upon our return from Washing- 
ton General Carvajal directed me to take such 
steps as were necessary to secure and fit out an 
armed vessel. This had to be done with very great 
caution. Though declaring openly for the cause of the 
Mexican Republic, the United States was still at peace 
with the French nation, and our diplomatic contin- 
gent — perhaps a little jealous of its prerogative and 
its ability to settle matters without the burning of 
powder — was exceedingly watchful for any move that 
might be construed as an act of war. It is true the 
Navy and the Military had little sympathy or patience 
with this diplomacy. As early as 1864 Grant had de- 
clared to his generals that as soon as he had disposed 
of the Confederates he would begin with the Imperial- 
ists in Mexico, and in May, 1865, he had ordered 
Sheridan with fifty thousand men into the Southwest, 
ostensibly for the purpose of restoring Texas and 
Louisiana to the Union, but in reality to have troops 
ready to throw across the Rio Grande at any mo- 
ment. 

Sheridan was charged by the State Department to 
be diplomatic, an order which that dashing officer, 
whose diplomacy was apt to be outlined with the point 
of a sabre, construed in his own way. He did not 

259 



26o A Sailor of Fortune 

hesitate to render material assistance to Juarez, and 
at one time sent over thirty thousand muskets from 
Baton Rouge alone.* The State Department could do 
no more than discountenance Grant and Sheridan, but 
an expedition like mine could be nipped in the bud. 
It was no easy matter to fit out, man, and provision a 
Mexican ship of war in an American port and to get 
away to sea, unknown to the civil authorities. My 
problem was further complicated by French spies, who 
in some manner had received a hint of our intention 
and dogged me whichever way I turned. 

Yet I eluded them now and then. I kept my news 
bureau going, and acted through faithful agents when 
necessary. I selected a steamer in New York, another 
in Boston, and a third in Philadelphia as possible pur- 
chases, and I think we led those French detectives the 
liveliest chase of their lives. I visited in person the 
steamers in Boston and New York, but kept away from 
the one in Philadelphia, the vessel that was to go. My 
officers and men were selected separately and secretly, 
no two being ever allowed to meet. 

It would require pages to relate even a portion of 
our experiences in getting our vessel — curiously 
enough named the General Sheridan — into shape for 
active service. In a comparatively brief period, how- 
ever, she was ready for sea, and as a blind I made a 
trip to Boston, returning so that my departure would 
take place on Sunday, when, as was then the case, the 
telegraph offices would be closed. I had arranged for 

* Sheridan in his memoirs says : " It required the patience of 
Job to abide the slow and poky methods of our State De- 
partment." 



The Creation of a Navy 261 

a tug to proceed up the Hudson River early on Sun- 
day morning, also for two cars to be attached to the 
morning express on the Hudson River Railroad. The 
cars were to take my men a little way up the river, and 
the tug was to bring them back — the whole being a 
plan to evade the spies, who, we knew, were now 
watching us night and day, with the hope of being 
able to give information sufficiently positive to thwart 
our undertaking. 

My men, each of whom had been notified of the 
hour and place of starting, came promptly, and filled 
the two cars waiting in the Hudson River yards. The 
regular train backed and hooked on to them, and we 
were off. I knew in all reason that the detectives were 
on ahead, and, sure enough, when we reached Spuyten 
Duyvil Creek two of them put in an appearance, and 
attempted to enter our cars. 

It was now time for positive action, and we denied 
them admittance. 

" We are officers of the law," they declared, " and 
demand that you let us in ! " 

" Gentlemen," I said, " we don't care a tinker's dam 
for any law that you represent. If you make a fuss we 
will drop you off the train." 

They retired inside their own coach and we ran 
along until we were not far from Tarrytown, when 
we saw our tug, and, by prearrangement, our coupling- 
pin was drawn and our two cars left behind, slowing 
down, while the train proceeded on its peaceful way, 
the two spies shaking their fists and reviling us from 
the rear platform. 

The tug now came along the bank and we hastily 



262 A Sailor of Fortune 

embarked, proceeding back down the river, arriving at 
Jersey City, where we took train for Philadelphia. 

Those were days of slow travel. The train, a freight, 
took eleven hours to reach Philadelphia, and it was 
midnight when we marched through the sleeping town 
toward the Camden ferry. There were eighty of us, 
officers and men, and we were suddenly hailed by a 
policeman who demanded our identity and errand. 

" A draft of men for the Navy Yard," I said, and 
we were allowed to pass. 

At Kaighn's Point our vessel was under steam and 
ready for sea, with a number of men on board, re- 
cruited around Philadelphia by Mr. Jackway, my cap- 
tain, himself formerly of the Coast Survey Service — 
a fine navigator, a brave, capable man, and a thorough 
sailor of fortune. Our vessel's former commander, 
however, was still nominally in charge, and we had 
cleared under his name in order to create no suspicion 
in the Custom House. 

At five next morning a pilot was to have been on 
board. I waited for him ten minutes, then concluded 
it unwise to delay longer. Undoubtedly the detectives 
had by this time suspected our destination, and would 
be down upon us by the first train. Also, the telegraph 
was now available, and every moment seemed pre- 
cious. Without further delay we cast off lines and 
steamed down the Delaware. The Mexican Navy was 
under way at last. 



XLII 
Great Plans, and What Came of Them 

THE General Sheridan, which we intended to 
rechristen the Margarita Juarez, after the 
Mexican President's daughter, was what to- 
day might be called a large, ocean-going tug. She was 
about one hundred and twenty-five feet long, and a 
very powerful vessel. She was to be armed with six 
Wiard steel rifles and with a torpedo outfit, this arma- 
ment and our munitions of war to follow on another 
vessel, owned by the same people who had sold us 
the Sheridan. Our ofiicers and crew' were picked men, 
all veterans of the Civil War, and as fine a lot as I have 
ever seen collected on one vessel. Our wardroom per- 
sonnel was pretentious. As chief officer of the em- 
bryo navy, I also carried the title of admiral, with 
power to convert prizes into privateers with letters 
of marque for destroying the French marine. Next in 
rank came Captain Jackway, who, in event of our 
accumulating a squadron, would become fleet captain. 
I had also two lieutenants and a secretary — the last a 
remarkable person who spoke and wrote fluently in 
nine languages. Officers and crew were to have one- 
half of all prize moneys, and now that we had been 
allowed to get to sea unmolested, we were a happy 
set of fellows as we headed for the South, dreaming 
of stirring adventures and golden fortunes ahead. 

263 



264 A Sailor of Fortune 

My orders from General Carvajal were to proceed 
to Brazos Santiago, a small harbour just above the 
mouth of the Rio Grande, there to receive further or- 
ders. The general himself was to come down by pas- 
senger steamer and be there on my arrival. It was our 
plan to begin the campaign by following down the 
Mexican coast, keeping in touch with what was going 
on by means of information signalled from the shore, 
finally to slip into the harbour of Vera Cruz by night 
and destroy the French vessels there, by torpedoing 
one, and capturing the others in the confusion which 
would ensue. 

As for the merchant marine, we went so far, before 
leaving New York, as to have ransom bonds prepared 
for the entire French transatlantic fleet — for the 
different ships by name, with the amount to be levied 
on each. Well, it is good to make plans and to dream 
dreams. The planning and dreaming of themselves are 
worth something. 

We had a rough passage between New York and 
our destination. I ran into the usual storm off Hat- 
teras and had a hard time to save the vessel. A strong 
norther was blowing when we arrived off Brazos San- 
tiago, with a big sea on the bar and no more than two 
wheelbarrow-loads of coal in our bunkers. By the 
skilful pilotage of Captain Jackway we managed to 
get in, and I was met immediately upon landing by a 
representative of General Carvajal, and was conducted 
by him on horseback to the general's ranch at Browns- 
ville, Texas, a number of miles away. Here we still 
further perfected our plans, and I returned to the ves- 
sel to await our armament and munitions. 



Great Plans 265 

But they never came. The vessel carrying them had 
been caught hke ourselves off Hatteras, and with less 
fortune. She had gone down, and our Wiard rifles 
and torpedo outfit were at the bottom of the sea. 

I took a bronco and rode over to convey the sad 
news to General Carvajal. He took it stoically. 

" Never mind," he said. " To keep your men busy, 
leave the Sheridan at Brazos and come over here." So 
we packed our baggage, got a lot of teams to do the 
hauling, and I was presently admiral of a wagon train 
with a force of " horse-marines " on the way to Gen- 
eral Carvajal's ranch. Certainly this was not much 
like a realisation of our fine plans, and though the boys 
rather enjoyed going into camp as a sort of a picnic, 
I began to suspect that my dreams of conquest and 
naval supremacy had come to a sudden and rather 
ridiculous end. 

But General Carvajal was not disturbed. He took 
me to the Rio Grande and pointing down the Mexican 
side, said, 

" There is a gunboat belonging to the Mexican 
Navy, but she has fallen into the hands of the Revo- 
lutionists. Do you think you can capture her by 
boarding? " 

The Revolutionists, it should be said, had little or 
nothing to do with the affair we had come to settle, 
but carried on a sort of guerrilla warfare in the State 
of Tamaulipas — there being many of these local revo- 
lutions at this time. 

The vessel across the river was a sidewheel steam- 
boat of the ordinary Western river type, of very light 
draft and lying in shallow water. The river at this 



266 A Sailor of Fortune 

time was low, and it seemed only a question of swim- 
ming a short distance and surprising a small crew on 
board. I looked at the prospective prize for a moment 
and said I thought the boys would like the job. In 
fact, I knew they would, for they were just the sort 
of fellows for that kind of work. When we returned 
to the ranch and I proposed it to them, they wanted to 
set out at once. 

We decided that the next night would be a good 
time to capture the Chinaco (which translated meam 
"robber," or "thief"), and accordingly, a little after 
dusk on the following day, we went down to the river 
bank with our revolvers and ammunition tied to our 
heads, and waded out very silently until it was neces- 
sary to swim. After swimming a distance of perhaps 
thirty yards we were once more in wading depth, and 
crept silently up under the guards of the steamer, 
which drew not more than two and one-half feet of 
water; and before our friends knew we were any- 
where in the neighbourhood we had boarded from all 
sides. They surrendered without firing a shot, and the 
Mexican Admiral had a new flagship, carrying one 
twelve-pounder brass rifle and six mountain howitzers 
as a total armament. Notwithstanding her light bat- 
tery, she was a serviceable vessel for river use, and 
when a few days later we had the Margarita Juarez, 
as I concluded to name her, in apple-pie order, with a 
supply of ammunition borrowed from the United 
States forces in Brownsville^ and with a crew of one 
hundred and twenty picked men, we constituted rather 
a formidable adjunct of the Juarez Government, as 
time proved. 



Great Plans 267 

There now succeeded several weeks of waiting filled 
with minor events, many of which I could not explain, 
but which I now suspect resulted from the lack of har- 
mony between the State and Military Departments at 
Washington. I think very few of us understood what 
was going on, or what were our positions at that time. 
For myself, I was nominally in the employ of the 
Mexican Republic, yet it is quite certain that my sup- 
plies, and many of my orders, were of American 
origin, the latter transmitted through General Car- 
vajal. 

I have always suspected that there was some plan 
on foot, in which the restoration of Juarez was only 
the first step, and that General Grant was chiefly con- 
cerned in the idea. Grant was always an annexation- 
ist, and certainly there was little evidence at this time 
that Mexico, under any form of government, was able 
to govern herself. Furthermore there was thought to 
be need of an outlet for the manumitted slaves and for 
the large floating element of white men who had served 
as soldiers in the Union army. Always deeply inter- 
ested in Mexican affairs, it is not impossible that 
Grant's programme included a dream of extending 
our dominion across the Rio Grande to embrace the 
land of the Montezumas. 

But whatever the purpose — if there was a purpose 
— it came to nothing, and thus far has not been made 
public. Generals Grant, Lew Wallace, Sheridan, and 
perhaps Sherman, knew what was going on, and Gen- 
eral Wallace must have thought that I was in the 
secret, for at a Grand Army Encampment dinner long 
afterward he said : " Gentlemen, let me present to you 



268 A Sailor of Fortune 

Admiral Osbon of the late Mexican Navy. If you and 
the world at large knew what we know, yon would 
know more than we are willing to tell. If the move- 
ment inaugurated, in which we took part, had been 
consummated, our names would have gone ringing 
down the ages." Aboijt a year ago I wrote to General 
Wallace concerning the matter, but he was too ill to 
reply, and never recovered. Perhaps in the autobiog- 
raphy which he has left behind he will clear up the 
story. 

At all events, those of us who were obeying orders 
were kept a good deal in the fog. General Sedgwick, 
who commanded the Department of the Rio Grande, 
and Colonel Alonzo F. Randall, of the First Light 
Artillery at Brownsville, were no wiser than myself. 
They received curious, and sometimes contradictory, 
orders emanating from unknown sources and not al- 
ways easy to fulfil. For my own part, I cruised up 
and down the river without much to do, keeping 
m^ostly to the American bank, as revolutions were still 
in progress in Tamaulipas, the sound of musketry in 
Matamoras being an everyday occurrence. If I re- 
member rightly there were no less than nine governors 
in that city in the space of a few months. I used to 
ask the sentinel at my door, " Well, orderly, who is 
governor this morning?" And sometimes he would 
answer : " I think there has been no change over night. 
I have heard no firing." 



XLIII 

The Mexican Navy Distinguishes Itself 

CURIOUS incidents followed one upon another, 
interesting enough at the time, even exciting, 
but often without definite purpose and seldom 
with tangible result. At one time I received orders 
from General Carvajal to go down the river to take 
on board a hundred sharpshooters, consigned to me 
from New Orleans, evidently with the consent of 
United States military authority, yet upon reaching the 
designated point I was obliged to receive them under 
cover of my guns, owing to the fierce opposition of 
United States Customs officials. At another time I 
awoke one morning to find a pontoon bridge stretched 
across the river from Brownsville to Matamoras, mak- 
ing a military connection from the American to the 
Mexican side. Later in the day, General Cortina, com- 
mander of the Revolutionary forces, then in control in 
Matamoras, sent word that unless the bridge was re- 
moved he would open fire on Brownsville. 

General Sedgwick, who understood no more than 
I why he had been ordered to make the pontoon con- 
nection, deputised me to wait upon Cortina, which I 
did. Our interview opened with drawn pistols and 
closed with brandy and cigars, in true Mexican fash- 
ion. I returned with General Cortina's ultimatum, that 
unless the bridge was removed the firing upon Browns- 

269 



270 A Sailor of Fortune 

ville would open next day at noon. Naturally, we 
were all a bit anxious for the outcome of this mys- 
terious incident, which, as usual, ended with nothing, 
for at precisely fifteen minutes of the given time there 
came from somewhere another mysterious order, and 
a detachment of United States troops marched across 
the pontoon bridge, cast it adrift from the Mexican 
side and let it swing down parallel with the American 
bank. 

At still another time, when General Canales was 
in Revolutionary command, word came across that 
unless my vessel was removed from the American 
bank the Matamoras guns would open on her, regard- 
less of what damage might be done to Brownsville. 
After considerable discussion with the United States 
authorities, I decided to disarm my vessel, land my 
guns and ammunition and leave the matter for Uncle 
Sam to decide. It was just at this time that General 
Sherman and a Mr. Campbell, who had been sent to 
Mexico as special commissioners, arrived in the Sus- 
quehanna, off Brazos Santiago. Learning of their com- 
ing, I hurried over with two of my staff and four 
extra horses, to welcome them. As the United States 
authorities at Brownsville had no conveyance to send 
but an ambulance, it was natural that an old soldier 
like Sherman should accept my horses and my 
escort. 

" Damn an ambulance when you can get a horse ! " 
he said, and we discussed my difficulties all the way 
over, with the result that on the following Sunday 
morning, with our guns and ammunition on board, 
and with a brass band borrowed for the occasion, I 



The Mexican Navy 271 

hoisted my admiral's flag once more on the Margarita 
Juarez, assured of the protection of the military of 
the United States. It will be seen from these inci- 
dents, unimportant as they appear, how curious was 
the naval and military situation along the Rio Grande 
during the iinal days of the so-called Mexican Em- 
pire. 

In the meantime the republican cause had pros- 
pered greatly. In spite of excuses and delays on the 
part of Napoleon, and of the pleadings of the Empress 
Carlotta, who besought that sovereign on her knees, 
the French troops were retiring. Already they had 
abandoned northern Mexico, and with the Maximilian 
empire doomed, Juarez was now in a position to give 
attention to the Revolutionists in Tamaulipas. About 
the middle of November (1866) a report reached us 
that a large force under General Escobedo was march- 
ing on Matamoras with a view of putting the Liberal 
Government in control. 

In due time he arrived, and with his six thousand 
men went into camp above the city. Immediately I 
went over to pay my respects to him and to offer the 
services of the Mexican Navy for whatever they 
might be worth. He thanked me pleasantly, and I sup- 
posed he would advise me when he was ready to make 
the attack, so that I might get into a position to flank 
the forts with my fire. 

He did not do so, and one morning about two 
o'clock I was aroused by a terrible cannonading, and 
knew that General Escobedo had begun the assault. 
Without concerted arrangement, I did not feel justi- 
fied in attempting to use my guns or to land my forces, 



272 A Sailor of Fortune 

for I had no knowledge of his plans. I therefore be- 
came merely a spectator, or listener, to the clash of 
arms. Then all at once it ceased. I expected to hear 
shouts of triumph as Escobedo's troops entered the 
streets of Matamoras, but there came no sound except 
of cheering along the lines of fortification. I saddled 
a horse and going ashore rode to Escobedo's camp, 
where troops were pouring in pellmell, in wild dis- 
order. 

I found the general, and presenting my compliments 
asked him why he did not notify me of the coming 
attack and allow me to render such assistance as I 
could. 

He was in deep distress at his defeat, declaring 
that his engineers had misled him as to the works, 
that, among other things, they had built sixteen-foot 
scaling ladders for a moat twenty-two feet wide. The 
Revolutionists had allowed his troops to get within 
short range, and then mowed down six hundred of 
them in ten minutes. The repulse had been sudden 
and complete. 

I now resolved to take Matamoras without the as- 
sistance of General Escobedo. I came back to the ves- 
sel and announced to my officers and men that, as we 
were unable to get our pay, and had hard work even 
to get rations — all of which was true enough, Heaven 
knows — I had resolved to turn the vessel for a time 
into a merchantman, to earn some money. They seemed 
well disposed toward this idea, and to give it official 
colour I announced next day in the Brownsville Ran- 
chero that the Margarita Juarez had been transferred 
to the merchant marine and would accept passengers 



The Mexican Navy 273 

and freight for up-river points. We also landed our 
guns and my forces went into camp. 

Of course I apprised General Carvajal of my plan, 
and with his assistance had dummy freight especially 
prepared for the trip. This in due season came aboard, 
and there was also a small amount of genuine freight, 
while a few passengers engaged staterooms. When all 
was ready at last, the men were taken into our confi- 
dence, and on the last night the guns were once more 
quietly taken aboard, and concealed behind the dummy 
freight. 

We were advertised to sail at ten o'clock next morn- 
ing, but when our passengers came down we put them 
off with an excuse that we would not leave that day, 
and did not let them aboard. They must have been 
surprised when at eleven o'clock we cast off and 
steamed up the river, to all appearances a peaceful 
merchantman, loaded and bound up stream. Certainly 
this is what we appeared to the Revolutionists on the 
Matamoras side, and this was the impression we had 
laboured to create. We had further arranged with 
one Colonel Ford, an American in command of a 
Liberal battery on the Mexican shore — his position 
in the Army being an anomalous one, similar to that 
of mine in the Navy — to act in conjunction with us; 
and when we were just coming abreast of the Revolu- 
tionist fortifications, over went our dummy freight, 
the men appeared at the guns, and simultaneously with 
Ford we let go, giving the Revolutionists a complete 
surprise, tumbling them out of their forts one after 
another, taking them seriatim until we had the entire 
eight. It was really great sport. The Revolutionists 



274 A Sailor of Fortune 

were enfiladed by a fire which made their position un- 
tenable, and they ran like rats, hardly pausing to re- 
turn our fire. In just an hour and forty minutes Mata- 
moras was ours, and General Escobedo and his army 
marched in in great triumph. As for the Mexican 
Navy, it modestly went back and tied itself to the 
American bank. It had distinguished itself at last. It 
was willing that the Army should do the shouting. 



XLIV 

An Exciting New Year's Eve 

THE war in Mexico was one of vengeance and 
reprisal. From the beginning, both sides had 
pursued guerrilla tactics, with campaigns of 
massacre and rapine. The " Black Decree " — forced 
by his ministers upon Maximilian — an edict by which 
everyone bearing arms against the empire became 
liable to the death penalty, and the enforcement of this 
infamous proscription, resulted in deeds and measures 
unknown to any civilised code of arms. Even where 
hostilities had ended, the flow of blood went on. De- 
tails of riflemen were kept busy, filling graves. 

At Matamoras, it is true, a large number of the 
Revolutionists came over to the National army and 
were forgiven; but there were many who were rene- 
gades by nature and petty criminals by choice. These, 
if captured, were given short shrift. General Bereo- 
sabel, who with Escobedo's occupation became Gov- 
ernor of Tamaulipas, was a fine gentleman with an 
English education, but his knowledge of the law related 
chiefly to its execution — the latter usually attended 
with results fatal to the offender. With the Mexican 
Navy now tied up to the Mexican bank, I could observe 
these conditions at close range, and every morning the 
the sound of musketry volleys brought the tidings that 
another detachment of prisoners had paid the extreme 
penalty of error. 

275 



2/6 A Sailor of Fortune 

" General," I said, one day, " if you keep on shoot- 
ing these fellows, we shall presently have ten women 
to every man in this end of Mexico. Instead of killing 
these poor devils, why don't you set them to work ? " 

" What can I do with them? " he asked. 

" Well," I replied, " the streets of Matamoras are 
in wretched condition. Let them lay paving stone. 
There's plenty of it up the river. Give me a lot of these 
fellows, and I will set them to getting out the ma- 
terial ; I will bring it down on the vessel, — the Mexican 
Navy isn't very busy just now." 

General Bereosabel approved of the idea, and before 
long I had a supply of recruits, all willing to get out 
stone for any number of days in preference to looking 
once into a musket barrel at sunrise. Of course I kept 
armed and alert for possible outbreaks. I wish I had 
been equally thoughtful during my next undertaking. 

I had made two trips as a stone droger, when I was 
ordered by the Governor to go up the river with a 
load of rifles and ammunition (doubtless a consign- 
ment from Sheridan) and a considerable amount of 
specie. I was also to have three passengers — the Gov- 
ernor's niece, who was to visit some friends up the 
river, and two troublesome Revolutionary generals, 
who were to be delivered to the military at a given 
point, from which they would be conducted to some 
unknown destination. The generals I was to supply 
with rations, allowing them to find quarters where they 
could. General Bereosabel's niece — a spirited young 
lady, as events proved — was assigned the best state- 
room in the vessel, the one adjoining my own, wath 
doors opening both to the main cabin and the deck, 



An Exciting New Year's Eve 277 

as is the case with all river steamers. My reasons 
for being thus explicit will develop later. 

The chief feature of my expedition, however, as it 
turned out, was a company of eighty casadores or light 
infantrymen — converted Revolutionists for the most 
part — which General Bereosabel detailed to accom- 
pany me, as a guard for the treasure. Perhaps he 
thought my crew incompetent for this duty. Perhaps 
he was afraid I would vanish with both his niece and 
the specie. At all events, the company of armed in- 
fantry came aboard, while my own men, being more 
or less off duty, stored their arms and made themselves 
comfortable in the after part of the lower main deck. 
Of course we were entirely in the hands of the casa- 
dores, and with two Revolutionist generals aboard — 
one of them Hernandez, a notorious agitator — it seems 
strange to me now that no possibility of trouble en- 
tered my mind. At all events, it did not, and we de- 
voted our ingenuities chiefly to keeping warm, for it 
was the last day of the year, and very cold for the 
climate. 

It seldom snows on the Rio Grande, but it snowed 
that day, and a stiff norther was blowing that chilled 
us through. All sorts of provision were made for Gen- 
eral Bereosabel's niece, while as many as could gath- 
ered about an improvised stove in the forward end of 
the cabin. When night fell, it was snowing quite hard, 
and I tied up to the American bank, as I considered 
navigation dangerous in that narrow, crooked river. 

After the evening meal was over I sat down with 
several of the officers around the little stove forward 
for a social chat. I had on my slippers, and for the 



278 A Sailor of Fortune 

only time during my stay in Mexico I did not wear a 
brace of revolvers at my waist. 

The New Year's Eve slipped away pleasantly, and 
I remember that we were discussing life in the tropics 
when the steward came in and informed Captain Jack- 
way that General Hernandez, who had retired, had 
taken the blankets out of two other rooms into his 
own, and refused to deliver them to their respective 
owners. 

I was naturally irritated at this report. My orders 
had been to supply my officer prisoners with nothing 
but food, and I had already allowed them good quar- 
ters and as much in the way of comfort as was possi- 
ble. I now left my chair, and going to Hernandez, ex- 
plained to him in pretty forcible Spanish, of which I 
had a very good command, that he had no right to 
enter any room but his own, and that he must sur- 
render the appropriated blankets forthwith. He glared 
at me fiercely for a second, then suddenly whipping out 
a revolver, stuck it within three inches of my face and 
pulled the trigger. 

Why the charge failed to explode I do not know. I 
do know that I grabbed his arm with my left hand, 
and when he did fire, an instant later, the bullet passed 
through the upper deck. By this time I had concluded 
that it was to be my life or his. Holding his arm 
straight and extended upward with my left hand I 
struck it a heavy blow with my right fist. I think I 
must have been very strong in those days, for the blow 
not only sent his pistol flying but broke the upper bone 
of his arm. I did not realise this at the moment, and 
grappled with him, forcing him toward the glass door, 



An Exciting New Year's Eve 279 

intending to push his head through it, and so have 
him at my mercy. 

But by this time something else had happened. 
What had been the original plan between Hernandez 
and the casadores I do not know, but, whatever it was, 
my affair with the archplotter had brought it to a 
sudden climax. The shot fired by Hernandez had been 
a signal for the seizing of our armory, my men had 
been corralled and were under guard below, while 
Captain Jackway and the officers about the stove had 
been surrounded and overpowered. A number of the 
mutineers were now upon me, clubbing at me with 
their muskets, only failing to strike me for want of 
room to get action. 

I knew immediately what was up, and that, unarmed 
as I was, my only hope was in escape. I heard the 
order given to shoot me down, and I made a break, 
and with a bound was under the long cabin table, 
scampering on my hands and knees toward my state- 
room, the soldiers firing wildly, filling the cabin with 
smoke, which became the means of my getting to my 
room unharmed. Here I hastily bolted the door, and 
had buckled on my pistols to go out and face them, 
when suddenly I felt a hand on my arm and, turning, 
found General Bereosabel's niece, who had entered by 
the outside door. She was cooler than I, and better 
able to reason. 

" You are not going out there," she said ; " they 
will kill you." 

I realised that this was a sound opinion, and stepped 
back through the outside door into the snow, intend- 
ing to go over the side of the vessel and make my way 



28o A Sailor of Fortune 

to a United States military station not many miles dis- 
tant. But the casadores were already battering at the 
inner door and would be upon me in another instant. 
My wise-headed little companion realised this, and 
without a word seized me firmly, and a second later I 
was in her stateroom with both doors locked and 
bolted, while the casadores were now eagerly search- 
ing and prodding in my empty apartment. Then a little 
later they were at the senorita's door, demanding 
admission. 

I have heard a good deal of Spanish in my life, and 
a good many instructions concerning the deference 
and respect due to a lady, but I have never heard a 
finer example of the language nor a more concise les- 
son in Spanish etiquette than that young lady delivered 
to those murderous Greasers through the door of her 
stateroom that cold New Year's Eve on the Rio 
Grande. She ended by telling them that I had gone 
over the side of the vessel, at which statement they 
hurried out on deck, and in the dim light seeing the 
half obliterated tracks in the snow, accepted her state- 
ment. Then, after barricading my m^n in the after 
cabin below, they moved the vessel to mid-stream, 
posted a guard, and gathered about the little stove 
forward, to wait for morning. 

Through the door and partitions we could hear the 
orders, and knew what was going on. By and by, 
when all got still, I suspected that, in true Mexican 
fashion, most of the enemy had gone to sleep. By 
two in the morning it was perfectly quiet, and I de- 
cided to reconnoitre the situation. My companion also 
realised that some action was necessary, and, softly 



An Exciting New Year's Eve 281 

opening her outside door, allowed me to step out on 
the deck. I hardly know what was my purpose. Cer- 
tainly, swimming ashore on such a night would be a 
last resort. Slipping forward and peering down on the 
lower deck I saw that the guard there, like the others, 
had gone to sleep. It consisted of three men by the 
brass pivot gun, which had been turned to cover the 
cabin, the plan having been to blow us all into eter- 
nity as we sat around the stove. One of the guards lay 
across the gun, the other two being huddled under the 
bulwarks. 

In my slippers, through the snow, I crawled along 
with a revolver in my left hand until I reached the 
first man under the bulwarks, and with a single blow 
from his own musket eliminated one factor of my 
problem. A well-directed and energetic kick in a care- 
fully selected spot disposed of the gentleman at his 
side, and as this roused the man across the gun it was 
necessary to shoot him, which of course instantly 
awoke the group sleeping about the cabin stove, caus- 
ing them to jump up and throw open the doors to see 
what was going on. 

But by this time I was ready for them. The brass 
gun covered them completely, and in the fiercest and 
most ferocious Spanish I could command I swore that 
if one of them lifted a hand I would blow the whole lot 
to Hades. I could have done it, too, for the gun was 
heavily loaded with grape, and to have pulled the fric- 
tion primer lanyard would have slaughtered that 
crowd almost to a man. 

I can't begin to describe the foolish, helpless looks 
of those fellows. They were armed; but they knew I 



282 A Sailor of Fortune 

was desperate, and that the movement of a weapon 
would bring death upon them all. Perhaps the reader 
will faintly realise the tension I was under during the 
moment of silence they stood looking at me. Then 
they begged for mercy. 

"Drop your guns," I called, "every one of you! 
Come down one at a time, unarmed. If I see a sus- 
picious move I will fire." 

They obeyed like Sunday-school boys, and I or- 
dered Hernandez and his companion in arms, who had 
now appeared, to see that my men were released, which 
they did. 

Then the reaction took place, and I wanted to sit 
down quietly with somebody about like General Bereo- 
sabel's niece to help me think it over. We celebrated, 
too, for our steward came running with a bottle of 
wine and some hot tamales — an early New Year's 
feast on the Rio Grande. 

I suppose, to make the story complete, it ought to 
end with a romance in which we should play the chief 
parts. My recollection is that neither of us thought 
of anything of the sort. She was simply one of the 
courageous girls of those troublous times, a worthy 
scion of a noble race, who gave a hand to a sailor of 
fortune at an opportune moment. It was my honour 
and pleasure to land her safely at her destination, and 
I have never seen her since she bade me good-bye that 
day, now almost forty years ago. 

As for the generals and the casadores — well, as I 
said in the beginning of this chapter. General Bereo- 
sabel's idea of law related chiefly to its execution. 

Meantime, we had great difficulties in getting our 



An Exciting New Year's Eve 283 

pay from the Mexican treasury. General Bereosabel 
issued orders for our money, but we had to resort to 
various devices to get the cash. Finally, when there 
were several thousand dollars due me, with no present 
prospect of collection, and as there was little or no 
further use for my services, that I could see, I made 
up my mind to resign, a decision that was somewhat 
hastened by the discovery that there were no less than 
eighty native applicants for my position. It seemed 
quite certain that if there were eighty Mexicans who 
wanted to command the Mexican Navy, my resigna- 
tion was likely to take the form of a funeral service, 
unless I got it in early, in the usual way. Eighty to 
one was an odds too heavy even for an admiral, and 
my resignation went in, despite General Bereosabel's 
protest. 

It was now late spring, and the conflict in lower 
Mexico was nearly over. By the middle of March the 
last of the French troops had departed, and Maxi- 
milian, abandoned to his fate, was doomed. Many of 
the French soldiers had agreed to remain individually 
for a certain bounty, but, after accepting it, deserted 
at the last moment. The poor monarch's fate was now 
sad indeed. Carlotta, who had failed in her efforts 
with Napoleon and in other directions, had been un- 
able to stand the mental strain, and was wandering 
about the beautiful castle Miramar, on the Adriatic, 
near Trieste, her mind full of disordered fancies. 
About Maximilian, only a hopelessly small force of his 
Mexican supporters gathered, and these, as one defeat 
succeeded another, rapidly melted away. 

Yet he struggled on. Still strong in his purpose of 



284 A Sailor of Fortune 

good — still believing that upon him depended the sal- 
vation of a disordered Government — he remained 
steadfast, refusing to abdicate, refusing to abandon a 
people who, because he loved them, must surely, one 
day, uphold his cause. 

Overwhelmed at last, captured, his days were num- 
bered. It was at Queretaro that he made his last 
stand, and here, as always, he showed the hero's self- 
denial and courage, foregoing all personal comforts, 
ministering to the sick and wounded, refusing at last 
to escape when it became known that the day was lost. 

" I do not hide myself," he said, and knowing his 
beloved Carlotta's hopeless fate, he longed only for 
the bullet which would release him from the sorrow 
and bitterness of it all.* 

Rumours of the fighting and the victories of Juarez 
came to us on the Rio Grande, and we knew that the 
end was near, though it was not until after my de- 
parture that the story was complete. I went over to 
New Orleans after my resignation, where I was pre- 
sented to General Sheridan by our Mexican Minister, 
Mr. Campbell, under my late rank and title. This 
closed my connection with the Mexican affair, though, 
curiously enough, in a civil capacity I was to perform 
a final duty — to add the final touch, as it were, to an 
episode of which I had seen the prelude in Havana 
Harbour five years before. 

I had been in New Orleans but a week when I be- 
came boarding officer of the New York Associated 

* " Now for a lucky bullet, Salm ! " was Maximilian's cry to 
his loyal friend, Prince Salm-Salm, as he saw the white flag 
go up near him. 



An Exciting New Year's Eve 285 

Press, at Southwest Pass (an entrance to the river 
below New Orleans). It was my duty to board all 
vessels for news of any sort. 

On the morning of June 29th, 1867, very soon after 
my arrival, I looked out over the bar and saw, lying 
outside, an Austrian man-o'-war, her colours at half- 
mast and bordered with black. There was no telegraph 
connection with Mexico in those days. I knew in- 
stantly that she had brought news, and I could guess 
well enough what it was. When I boarded the vessel, 
which I did without delay, the captain gravely took 
me into his cabin and told me that he had a communi- 
cation which, as representative of the Associated Press, 
I would be permitted to make public ; but that I must 
pledge myself not to allow it to appear in print until 
it had reached the Austrian and French ministers at 
Washington. He then told me how on the morning 
of the 19th of June, at Queretaro, on the " Hill of 
Bells," where they had met defeat, Maximilian and his 
two generals, Miramon and Meji, had faced a file of 
soldiers, and so made the supreme expiation. Maxi- 
milian had died as he had lived — brave of heart and 
gentle of spirit — forgiving those whose duty it was to 
take his life — refusing at the last the bandage for 
his eyes.* 

* In his last hours Maximilian wrote a noble letter to Juarez, 
whose spirit he admired, and a tender message to the poor de- 
mented soul who was watching for his coming at Miramar. The 
letter to Carlotta was as follows: 

My Beloved Carlotta: 

If God permits that your health be restored, and you should 
read these few lines, you will learn the cruelty with which fate 



286 A Sailor of Fortune 

We computed the cable tolls, for I was also to for- 
ward the message direct to Paris and Vienna, and he 
paid me the amount in gold. Returning to my head- 
quarters, I opened the wire to New Orleans, called Mr. 
Mingle, then manager of the telegraph department, 
and, having obtained his assurance that the news 
would be kept sacred until it was in the hands of the 
legations at Washington, I forwarded the story, which 
he received in person. 

For nearly twenty-four hours the public knew noth- 
ing of the matter. Then, if I remember rightly, the 
announcement of the death of Maximilian was made 
simultaneously in Europe and the United States.* I 
had seen the beginning of an international tragedy. 
I had received the news of its end. 

has stricken me since your departure for Europe. You took with 
you, not only my heart, but my good fortune. Why did I not 
give heed to your voice? So many untoward events! Alas, so 
many sudden blows have stricken my hopes; so that death is 
but a happy deliverance, not an agony to me. I shall die glo- 
riously, like a soldier, like a monarch, vanquished, but not dis- 
honoured. If your sufferings are too great, and God shall call 
you to join me, I shall bless His divine hand which has weighed 
so heavily upon us. Adieu, adieu. 

Your poor 

Maximilian. 

It is probable that Carlotta never comprehended this letter. 

" He is dead — they will kill him — I know the Mexicans," she 
is said to have declared in a semi-lucid interval. Yet she never 
ceased to believe him living, and to this day, still alive herself, 
cared for now in her own native Belgium, she is watching for 
his return. 

* The first brief announcement of Maximilian's death was 
made by the press June 30th, 1867. 



XLV 

I Attend the Havre Exposition, and 
Welcome Mrs. Farragut 

I REMAINED about one year at Southwest Pass, 
during which time, besides being the official news 
gatherer, I held the positions of deputy United 
States marshal, commodore of the New Orleans tow- 
boat fleet, and doctor of medicine of the port. My ex- 
perience as a sea captain fitted me for the last named 
post, for I had dealt with almost every known dis- 
ease in every known climate, and I believe I had some 
natural faculty for the business. 

At Southwest Pass I had at one time fifty-two cases 
of yellow fever. And of these I did not lose one, which 
I think is a pretty good record. 

Curious things happened at that strange half-water, 
half-mud place which sticks out into the Gulf of Mexico 
like a fishing pole, but I have not the space to set them 
down here. One storm still gathers in my mind, out 
of the many terrible semi-tropic gales of that locality 
— a storm presaged only by some strange subcompre- 
hension which makes the pelican fly low and disturbs 
the fish, but is not revealed by the barometer. All the 
morning I had watched them — the birds skimming the 
surface of the water and the fish shooting about in 
that unusual way, feeling an inward something of my 
own that foretold disaster. I was so sure by ten 

287 



288 A Sailor of Fortune 

o'clock that a gale was coming, though there was not 
a single tangible sign, that I hoisted the signal, " Pre- 
pare for a Hurricane." 

There were a number of vessels anchored in the 
river, waiting to be towed to New Orleans, and their 
captains came or sent ashore to know why I had 
hoisted the signal. When I explained, they laughed; 
but I kept the signal flying. The pilots laughed, too; 
but I did not haul down the flags. 

Then the captain of a little bark and his mate — both 
had their families aboard — came to ask why I ex- 
pected a gale. I told them as best I could how the peli- 
cans were flying low and the fish were disturbed, and 
how the alligators had gone into holes. I advised him 
to put his vessel into the bank across the river, well 
anchored and stripped for a hurricane. Those men did 
not laugh. They had their wives and children aboard 
and were taking no chances. They followed my in- 
structions to the letter; and at two o'clock that night 
there was blowing one of the wildest hurricanes I have 
ever known. The river rose until I was obliged to pass 
a couple of hawsers over my house and lash it to the 
piling, and to cut holes through the floor to let in the 
water for ballast, to keep from drifting away. A pilot 
boat was swept by and went high and dry on the 
marsh. The vessels waiting to be towed to New Or- 
leans were driven about and scattered like ships of 
straw. One of our towboats was there, and I ordered 
her sunk to her main deck to keep her off the marsh. 
Next morning, she and the little bark anchored on the 
left bank were the only vessels not driven ashore and 
damaged. Our wrecking tugs pulled thirteen of them 



The Havre Exposition 289 

off; and I do not believe there was a captain in that 
fleet that ever disregarded from that day, no matter 
what the barometer might indicate, the more mys- 
terious warnings of the wise pelicans, the alligators, 
and the fish. 

I left Southwest Pass for a voyage to Europe, for 
I was suffering from my old unlucky knee and I was 
told that an ocean voyage would benefit me. I was also 
going for another reason, for in the course of my many 
travels I had met one Eliza Balfour — a young lady of 
Scotch descent — of the Balfours of Burleigh, and we 
were to meet and be married on the other side. 
Our wedding took place at Liverpool, and after a 
brief time we crossed over to Havre to attend the 
Maritime Exposition, the first of the kind ever held 
in Europe. 

Before leaving America I had made arrangements 
with the New York Times, the Philadelphia Inquirer, 
and papers in each of the other chief cities of the United 
States for foreign correspondence, and on the other 
side the London Times, the Manchester Guardian, 
the Liverpool Post, and Mercury engaged articles on 
the Maritime show. It was not customary in those 
days to syndicate descriptive matter, so that each of 
my letters had to be separately written and differently 
constructed. Yet I did not find this a difficult under- 
taking, once I got going. There was a vast deal to 
see, all the time, and no one letter, or ten, could cover 
it all. The London Times presently invited me to send 
a letter as often as circumstances would warrant, and 
the pay was most liberal for those days. Being the only 
American newspaper man in Havre I was treated with 



290 A Sailor of Fortune 

great courtesy, and unusual facilities were accorded 
me for getting interesting facts. 

Near my headquarters in the Exposition was the 
working model of a pneumatic telegraph apparatus 
which interested me very much.. In time I familiarised 
myself with the details of its method, and frequently 
explained it to visitors who happened along. 

One day a tall, gaunt, grey-eyed Englishman over- 
heard a part of one of my impromptu lectures, and 
presently, when we were alone, asked me if I would 
explain the principles of the pneumatic telegraph to 
him. His interest and manner appealed to me and I did 
my best. He listened with great attention, asking 
many questions. When I had finished, he said: 

" My name is Weir. I am the president of the com- 
pany that owns this machine. It is, as you say, par- 
ticularly adapted to the needs of naval vessels. If you 
care to handle it for us at this Exposition, and will 
undertake to introduce it into the French Navy, I will 
give you a one-fifth interest in the patents, and allow 
you six pounds sterling per week for expenses.'* 

I clinched the bargain at once, and with the income 
from my news correspondence I now had what was 
then considered a very excellent provision for life on 
the Continent. 

In fact, I may say that fortune seemed to smile about 
this time. Admiral and Mrs. Farragut were that year 
making a tour abroad and were everywhere received 
with great honours. If I remember rightly, the ad- 
miral was in poor health, and was unable to attend 
the Exposition; but Mrs. Farragut came up from the 
Mediterranean on the sloop of war Canandaigua, and 



The Havre Exposition 291 

was welcomed with great ceremony. Rest assured, I 
was on hand when the ship was announced, and re- 
ceived a most cordial greeting from the wife of my 
old commander. Indeed, the gentle and noble old lady 
had always been like a mother to me after the New 
Orleans episode, and I remember once, when I went 
to call on the admiral in his home, after the war was 
ended, how she kissed me and declared I had saved 
her husband's life. 

At the Havre Exposition it was the same. A day 
was fixed for her visit, and it was arranged that I 
should call for her and conduct her through the show. 
She was received in state by the mayor and civic of- 
ficials, and when we made the rounds she kept my arm 
throughout, everywhere making known the fact that I 
had been her husband's signal officer at New Orleans, 
and declaring that I had saved his life. I think we 
were the centre of attention at the Exposition on that 
day, which I still recall with great pride; and I shall 
always revere the beautiful nature and kind heart of 
the noble woman who made that day possible. 

Of course an event of this sort could not fail to 
count for me in the advancement of my plans concern- 
ing the French Navy. I was made one of the judges 
on exhibits pertaining to the outfitting of ships with 
labour-saving appliances, and I did not fail to direct 
attention to the pneumatic telegraph, in which I had 
a genuine and most enthusiastic faith. It was near the 
end of the show, when one day a very nice old gentle- 
man came to see the model, and when I had explained 
it in such French as I could command he said: 

" Now, sir, if you will please tell me all about it in 



292 A Sailor of Fortune 

English, I think I can understand it much better/' 
and he handed me his card. 

I was a bit chagrined, expecting to see the name of 
an EngHshman who had not comprehended a single 
word I had said. I was mistaken. The card bore the 
name of Admiral Paris, of the French Navy, one of 
the men I most desired to meet. We immediately be- 
came good friends, and I felt that I had made a long 
step in the direction of business success. 



XLVI 

I Have Dealings with Napoleon III. — A 
Remorseful Emperor 

AT the close of the Exposition at Havre I went 

/\ to Paris and began a vigorous campaign with 
X JL a view of establishing the pneumatic tele- 
graph on the French naval marine. Through my 
new friend, the admiral, who was himself preparing a 
work on naval architecture and appliances, I made 
the acquaintance of a number of influential officers 
and officials, and felt that I was getting along swim- 
mingly. 

It was necessary, however, to secure the imperial 
approval before a demonstration could be given of the 
apparatus; also, of course, before an order could be 
obtained from the French Government. Napoleon III. 
was not an easy man to see in those days, and even 
Admiral Paris did not care to suggest that he would 
arrange an interview. I secured the coveted presenta- 
tion at last in a peculiar manner. 

From the beginning, in France, I was known to 
have been in Mexico, in the service of the Juarez Gov- 
ernment, and was placed on the list of suspects. I think 
by this time there was no feeling against me person- 
ally; but it was natural that the authorities should 
wish to be quite certain of my errand, when the French 
and Mexican complications had been so recently ad- 

293 



294 A Sailor of Fortune 

justed, and when there was still so much resentment 
toward the French emperor on account of his connec- 
tion with the Maximilian tragedy. 

I was watched continually, my letters were opened, 
even the servants in the house where my wife and I 
had apartments acted as spies. Those were troublous 
times in France, just prior to the Franco-German war, 
and everyone of whom there was the least suspicion 
was kept under close surveillance. 

Of my followers, one of the most persistent, was an 
Englishman. Go where I would, I could see his face. 
At the Cafe Royal one morning he planted himself 
directly in front of me. I felt the time had come to 
speak. 

" My friend," I began, " will you join me at break- 
fast? I have something to say to you." 

He looked at me a moment and shifted his seat 
closer. I said: 

" You have favoured me with your company so 
long, I think I ought to introduce myself. My name 
is Osbon, as you know. I live in the Rue de la Pepi- 
niere. I am here on business — to sell, if possible, to 
the French Government a pneumatic telegraph sys- 
tem, owned by a company in London. I have served in 
the Mexican Navy as its senior officer; but I am no 
longer connected with that Government and have no 
interest in its movements. I don't like to be followed 
around Paris as if I were a revolutionist or a regi- 
cide. You have a pleasant sort of a face, but I see it 
too often." 

" My dear sir," he said, " there is some mistake. It 
is true I have seen you before, but I am simply an 



A Remorseful Emperor 295 

English gentleman, formerly a British consul, living 
quietly in Paris." 

** Well," I replied, " you may be an English gen- 
tleman, and you may have been a British consul. But 
you are at this moment a French spy — a fnouchard/^ 

He looked at me keenly a moment, then he said : 

" Perhaps I can be of assistance to you. How would 
you like an introduction to the Emperor?" 

This was business, and I replied promptly, " Noth- 
ing would give me greater pleasure." 

" Make it worth my while and I will get you a per- 
sonal interview," was his next remark. 

" What is your * while ' worth ? " I asked. 

" For five hundred dollars I will present you to the 
Emperor, and you can show him the apparatus. You 
must do your own business after that." 

When we left the breakfast table I had agreed to 
meet him at the office of the Emperor's chamberlain 
on the following Wednesday. Without delay I hur- 
ried over to London, told Mr. Weir of my arrange- 
ment, a meeting of the board was called and the five 
hundred dollars voted and placed in my hands. 

On Wednesday morning promptly at eleven o'clock 
I was at the imperial chamberlain's office, to find my 
British friend there. I showed him the money and 
told him that when I had seen the Emperor and had 
my interview the money would be his. Ten minutes 
later I was in the presence of Napoleon HI. 

I know now that the Emperor had been induced to 
see me on the ground that I had come from Mexico, 
and, having held a commanding position with the op- 
posing forces, would likely be able to communicate 



296 A Sailor of Fortune 

interesting and perhaps valuable information. Na- 
poleon was at this time filled with remorse at the 
thought of having sent Maximilian to his doom, and I 
saw almost immediately that he was hungry for every 
word from the fallen empire. He permitted me to 
show him a small model of the telegraph machine, and 
called in the young Prince Imperial to look at it^ Then 
turning to me anxiously he said, 

" Mr. Osbon, you have been in Mexico." 

I saw how eager he was in his interest, and I told 
him in detail the story of my going to Mexico, and 
some of my experiences there. He was most minute 
in his questions, but I did not tell him all, for I 
wanted another interview. In reply to some of his 
inquiries I said — and it was true — " I will have to 
consult my papers before I can reply to your satis- 
faction." 

Promising to return in a few days with further in- 
formation, I left his presence, joined my Englishman 
and turned over the stipulated sum, feeling, as one 
would say in nautical terms, that I had both anchors 
down in France. 

I called alone, after that. He never refused to see 
me, and we always talked much more of Mexico than 
of the machine. I found I had much to tell that inter- 
ested him — in fact, every small detail of those final 
days seemed to fascinate him, and when I told him of 
the arrival of the Austrian vessel at Southwest Pass 
draped in mourning, he seemed to hang on my very 
words. That I had chanced to be the one to receive 
and forward the tragic news of Maximilian's end gave 
me a peculiar importance in his eyes. 



A Remorseful Emperor 297 

The third time I called I asked him to give me a 
letter to the Minister of Marine requesting that a test 
of the pneumatic telegraph be made on board a French 
man-of-war. He assented readily, and with the pre- 
cious missive I sought the minister and was introduced 
to the senior officer commanding the Mediterranean 
Fleet. I was not long in obtaining a requisition to 
have the machine fitted up on the Jeanne d'ArCj the 
flagship of the squadron. The wedge was in at last, 
and in due season I was notified that the vessel was 
ready to be fitted with the appliance. 

I now sent to London, brought over six first-class 
men, the piping and the machines, and went down to 
Cherbourg to install them. We had a royal time, for 
quarters and all comforts were placed at our disposal, 
and when the machines were installed we went on a 
trial trip and demonstrated the practicability of the 
apparatus. 

Yet I was by no means through with the Emperor. 
What I wanted, now, was the Government order, and 
I had many interviews with the French sovereign, 
during which, though he was chiefly interested in 
Mexico and I in the machine, we got along famously. 

One day I said to him, " I wish I had here a trunk I 
have at home. It contains some documents which 
might interest you." 

He said, " Send for it at once. Cable for it. Sit 
down here and write a cable, and I will see that it is 
sent. Who has this trunk ? " 

" My father." 

" Very well. Tell your father to send the trunk to 
the office of the Compagnie Generate Transatlantique, 



298 A Sailor of Fortune 

at New York. The company will be instructed to for- 
ward it to you in Paris." 

The longest cable I ever wrote went to my father 
that night, and in due season the trunk arrived. I was 
notified by wire from Havre, and when I went to meet 
it I found it guarded by an official, who accompanied 
me with it to my rooms, even insisting that it be placed 
inside of our carriage. 

On the following day I took some of the documents 
over to show to Napoleon. They were chiefly official 
reports, among them being, I think, certain papers 
emanating from the Mexican emperor's headquarters, 
these having in some manner fallen into our hands. 
They do not now seem to me to have been of any spe- 
cial importance, but to him they were as priceless 
treasures. Whenever I wanted to see the Emperor 
now, the door was always open. There seemed noth- 
ing that he was not ready to grant. When at last a 
favourable report came from the committee of experts 
appointed to pass on the machine, and I was delayed 
only by the official appraisements of value, I went to 
the Emperor and told him that we would agree upon 
a price of thirty thousand pounds, and the matter was 
settled upon that basis. When there came another de- 
lay, this time in the payment, another interview with 
the Emperor resulted in our receiving one-half the 
purchase money, forthwith. So you see it is an ill wind 
that blows nobody good. Poor Maximilian's venture 
had resulted tragically enough for him, and it cast a 
dark shadow over Napoleon's latter days. But with- 
out my reminiscences of that sombre episode it is quite 
certain that I should have found but a poor welcome at 



A Remorseful Emperor 299 

the French Court. I may say here that in due time I 
received my fifth interest of the French purchase, and 
felt fairly well-to-do. But our company lost heavily by 
the Franco-Prussian war, which even then was brew- 
ing, and the downfall of Napoleon and later patents 
and appliances eventually brought our business to an 
end. 

I will close this chapter with a humorous incident 
which has little to do with the subject as a whole, 
yet seems worth recalling. 

During our stay in Paris the Emperor gave a fete, 
and both Mrs. Osbon and myself were anxious to 
attend. I knew that the official method to gain ad- 
mission was through our United States Minister, at 
that time General John A. Dix, an old friend, as the 
reader may remember. I went up to the Legation, 
therefore, and meeting the General's son John, told 
him my mission. 

" Well," he said, " you should have made your ap- 
plication about three years ago. They were all spoken 
for nearly that far ahead. However, you might see 
my father." 

I did see General Dix, and, while he was very cor- 
dial, he could do nothing, for he had no more tickets 
at his disposal. 

" Very well," I thought, " I have done the proper 
thing, anyway ; now I'll see what I can do on my own 
account." 

So I sauntered around to the Tulleries and told the 
chamberlain I should like to attend that ball. 

" Certainly. Of course," he said, " I will send you 
the tickets." 



300 A Sailor of Fortune 

The tickets came, and they were tickets, sure 
enough. The outer envelope was nearly as large as a 
fore-royal. Within, the tickets gradually reduced in 
size — each card being for some special permission, un- 
til we reached one that admitted to the royal presence. 

On the night of the event we were on hand in full 
regalia, and when the hour came for presentation we 
purposely formed at the end of the American column. 
As each person faced the Emperor and Empress, Gen- 
eral Dix stood ready to make the presentation. When 
we came up, at last, he stared at us as much as to say, 
"How in the name of heaven did you get here?" 
Then, just as he was about to speak, the Emperor held 
out his hand. 

" I know Captain Osbon very well," he said ; and 
after greeting Mrs. Osbon we passed on. 

A day or two later, when I dropped into the Lega- 
tion, the first greeting I received was, 

" Say, Osbon, how did you manage it? Tell us." 

" Oh," I said, " that was easy enough. Me an' the 
Emperor's chums ! " 



XLVII 

Various Enterprises, and Asphalt 

IN 1869 I was once more in New York, in the 
employ of the Old Colony Steamship Company, 
then owned by Fisk and Gould, as assistant to 
the managing director. Most of the work was left 
to me, as my chief, Mr. M. R. Simons, was not a prac- 
tical steamboat man, and I began at once to harmonise 
and discipline the crews of the Bristol and Providence, 
the crack vessels of Long Island Sound. The Ply- 
mouth Rock, another vessel, idle at the time, we con- 
verted into the first large excursion steamer in these 
waters. The management of her excursions fell to me, 
and on the occasion of the International Yacht Races 
we carried four thousand passengers, bringing every 
one home safely, though she cracked her shaft during 
the trip. 

The White Star Line now offered me a position at 
what was considered the very excellent salary of sev- 
eral thousand dollars a year, and I remained with that 
company until 1871, when I had another attack of the 
journalistic fever — one never is permanently cured of 
that complaint — and in July of the same year, on a 
capital of four hundred dollars, I established the Nau- 
tical Gazette, an eight-page weekly paper, the first 
maritime journal of America. 

I had a partner at first, but his legs were overlong, 

301 



302 A Sailor of Fortune 

and he wrote on his lap, so after a few months we 
dissolved. Perhaps his physical characteristics had 
nothing to do with the fortunes of the paper, but I 
know that it prospered from the day he went away. In 
two years the Nautical Gazette had a paid circulation 
of seven thousand regular subscribers and had become 
a sixteen page paper. Furthermore, I had been elected 
secretary of the National Board of Steam Navigation, 
a position which required my presence in Washington 
during the sessions of Congress, where I represented 
both the board and my paper, and was associated inti- 
mately with almost everyone of importance in politi- 
cal life.. 

I could make a book of my Washington recollec- 
tions alone, for in the course of events I was brought 
into close contact with Grant, Garfield, Arthur, Harri- 
son, McKinley, Zach. Chandler, Conklin, and many 
others. They are all dead now; but the days when I 
knew them, and we exchanged stories together, come 
back, bringing happy memories. 

I cannot forego relating one incident, recalled by 
the names of Chandler and Conkling. Conkling was 
a man of fine physique, and was proud of his skill 
as a boxer. He often bantered men to put on the gloves 
with him, and at a dinner one night induced Senator 
Chandler to engage in a bout, which naturally ended 
with the latter's defeat and discomfiture. Chandler, 
however, bided his time, and somewhat later, when 
another dinner was on, quietly engaged a professional 
pugilist to occupy a seat at the table, under the unob- 
trusive name of Mr. Smith of Michigan. 

When the dinner was over, Conkling as usual was 



Various Enterprises 303 

anxious for his favourite exercise, and playfully ban- 
tered Senator Chandler to engage him as before. 

" No, Conkling," said Chandler, " I'm not in your 
class. Suppose you try my friend Sniith here, of 
Michigan." 

Mr. " Smith " protested that he knew very little of 
the sport, but Conkling insisted and the gloves were 
finally donned by both. What happened to Conkling 
I am hardly prepared to describe. Don Quixote's en- 
counter with a windmill was a small affair in compari- 
son. Mr. Smith danced about him, landing when and 
where he wished, playing with him as he would with 
a punching bag. The elegant New York senator was 
dazed, overwhelmed, humiliated, crushed. When he 
surrendered and called enough, as he did at last. Sena- 
tor Chandler smiled blandly and presented the pugilist 
in his true colours, and Conkling paid the bill. 

For thirteen years uninterruptedly I owned and 
edited the Nautical Gazette; then, one autumn, on the 
way from Washington I was in a train that broke in 
two, and I received injuries which made it necessary 
for me to give up all work and go abroad. I did not 
sell out, but closed up the paper, paying all subscribers 
and advertisers, resuming publication several months 
later, fully restored to health. 

But I was unfortunate, for a second accident — this 
time on the elevated railway — once more laid me on 
my back. I now leased the paper, and subsequently sold 
it, with which transaction my proprietary, journalism 
came to an end, though I have never ceased to be a 
contributor to various publications, and am, at the 
present writing, an associate editor of the American 



304 A Sailor of Fortune 

Shipbuilder. The Nautical Gazette had various for- 
tunes and owners after my retirement, and still ex- 
ists, a flourishing publication owned by Crossett & 
Bates. 

My own fortunes were varied and often peculiar 
after this period. Through Mr. A. D. Bryce-Douglas, 
an old friend and one of the proprietors of the Fair- 
field Shipbuilding Works, at Govan, Scotland, Sir 
William Pierce of Glasgow sent for me to superintend 
the organisation of a line of steamers between New 
York and the West Indies. Both Mrs. Osbon and my- 
self were royally entertained by the prospective foun- 
ders of the new company. At Ardrossan we made our 
home in the Bryce-Douglas mansion, whence we trav- 
elled here and there as invited guests, attending, among 
other events, the annual games at Windermere Lake, 
where I renewed my old acquaintance with the Prince 
of Wales. 

I was to become managing director of the new 
company, and after inspecting the plans for the pro- 
posed ships I returned to New York and went down 
through the West Indies, where I visited every island 
and arranged for prospective traffic. I then returned to 
London, established offices, and contracted with Os- 
wald, Mordaunt & Company for the vessels. All the 
papers were drawn, and, just three days before they 
were to be signed, Sir William Pierce, our financier, 
died. The heirs of Sir William did not wish to con- 
tinue the West Indian Navigation scheme, and I 
returned to the United States. 

Meantime I had made a preliminary contract with 
the asphalt interests of Venezuela — the famous New 



Various Enterprises 305 

York & Bermudez Company whose private affairs 
have since become so entangled with poHtics as to 
involve the United States in an unsavory public em- 
broglio with the Venezuelan government. Still hoping 
to build the transportation line, I returned to England, 
but could effect no satisfactory arrangement. The 
asphalt people now made me a proposition to go to 
Guanoco and superintend their plant at that point, 
also the La Brea & Guanoco Railway. I accepted, and 
sailed from New York on the steamer Fontahelle for 
my new destination. A number of years had slipped 
away in various steamship projects and in other more 
or less successful undertakings, and it was January 
nth, 1896, when I left for the now notorious asphalt 
districts of the south. 

My experience as superintendent of the New York 
& Bermudez Company and of the La Brea & Guanoco 
Railway was neither very long nor very agreeable. 
All the petty intrigue and underground politics which 
have since come to the surface, as it were, of the lakes 
of pitch were then fermenting, and I did not fancy 
the process. " Touch pitch and be defiled " is a prov- 
erb which would seem to have been especially in- 
vented for the asphalt industry. In time, perhaps, the 
mix-up of companies and politics will be understood 
and rectified; but my own knowledge of the mess is 
too limited to undertake a lucid analysis here, and, 
besides, the public is already weary of the theme. 

The asphalt lakes, however, constitute one of the 
wonders of the world. The largest, La Brea, is about 
five miles long and three miles wide, and the major 
portion of it consists of asphalt in its pure state. This 



3o6 A Sailor of Fortune 

substance is a bituminous vegetable product, like coal, 
distilled and diffused by some subterranean volcanic 
agency, and in its liquid state it bubbles and blisters 
under the fierce tropic sun — literally a lake of pitch.* 
In places, where it is cooled and hardened, it is covered 
with tropical vegetation, which has to be cut away 
before the asphalt can be removed. The supply seems 
inexhaustible, and no matter how much is taken out, 
within a short time the hole fills and the level of the 
lake is restored. Whether the supply is really never- 
ending, time alone can tell, 

A narrow strip of land but a few yards wide, and 
upon which there was then a growth of trees, separates 
this lake from another. Lake Felicidad — the two being 
probably connected somewhere in the depths. On one 
side is a range of mountains, on the other, in close 
proximity, the Guanoco River. Above and below are 
pampas, or muddy swamp plains, extending on the 
northward to the Gulf of Paria. It is a weird, sinister 
locality — a place for unhealthy ambitions and un- 
natural schemes. 

Perhaps I should say a few words here as to the 
method of handling this strange merchandise. The 
workmen employed during my administration ranged 
in number from one hundred to three hundred West 
India negroes and native Venezuelans, about equally 
divided. Vessels were chartered and sent to Guanoco 
to bring coal for the locomotives, piles for wharfage 
and various supplies — ^the vessels to be returned with 
cargoes of asphalt ranging in bulk from five hundred 
to eight hundred tons. Cars which brought the asphalt 
from the lakes held about one ton each, and to prevent 
* The Spanish name La Brea signifies pitch. 



Various Enterprises 307 

the pitch from sticking to the sides they were washed 
with a coat of mud. The bodies of the cars were 
hoisted from the trucks and the contents dumped into 
the ship's hold, in bulk. Great care had to be exercised 
in confining the asphalt, for if it shifted it was likely 
to put a vessel on her beam ends. It was a peculiar 
business, throughout, and I was not unhappy, when, 
at the end of September, 1896, my connection with it 
ceased. 



XLVIII 
A Mysterious White Race 

I WAS glad, however, of my Guanoco experience, 
which certainly was a new one to me, and I was 
interested in acquainting myself with the abo- 
rigines of this portion of the globe. These are of two 
distinct kinds — the first being a few tribes of the 
ordinary Venezuela Indians, who live in swamps and 
sleep in hammocks made fast to trees, with no other 
covering than a few palm leaves, during the rainy 
season — the other race being the strange White In- 
dians of Venezuela, of whom so little has been written 
or is known, even by natives of the country. As it 
became my fortune to meet and to see something of 
a number of these wonderful people, it seems worth 
while to make more than a passing mention of them 
here. 

From my arrival in Venezuela I had heard marvel- 
lous tales concerning them, how they dwelt in a fertile 
valley, surrounded by lofty mountains — living at peace 
with the world, because they refused to mingle with 
the people of the world or to allow anyone not of 
their own race to enter their domain. They were said 
to be by no means a bloodthirsty people — quite the 
contrary, in fact — but strong to resist invasion, nature 
having aided them in maintaining their seclusion. 
Passing up the San Juan River, the casual observer 

308 



A Mysterious White Race 3^9 

would never notice the mouth of a small navigable 
creek concealed by overhanging tropic foliage. Yet 
this is their gateway, and a little way above, a guard 
— all that is needed for the narrow place — ^permits 
none but the strange white natives to pass. 

What lies beyond, in that fabulous valley of seclu- 
sion, none but themselves have ever seen. Yet such are 
the reports of marvels there, that more than one man 
has risked his life, and lost it, perhaps, in attempting 
to enter this forbidden land. It is said that war, 
famine, and pestilence are unknown within its bor- 
ders; that stores of priceless jewels are there, such as 
the world has never known; that all of their domes- 
tic utensils are fashioned of beaten gold. I don't 
see how men have ever learned these things, when 
nobody has ever been there, and when the people them- 
selves will have nothing to say of their affairs. Per- 
haps at some time in the past a member of the race has 
looked with eyes of love upon a maiden of the outer 
world and forsaken his country, and told its tradi- 
tions. It could not have been the other way around, 
for no maiden of the race has ever been allowed out- 
side of the happy valley. 

At all events, these are the reports. What we know 
is, that they weave the most marvellous hammocks in 
the world — hammocks of a net and filament so fine, 
yet so strong and expansive, that one may wrap it 
around and around the body in a countless envelop- 
ment of folds until one is sheathed and enshrouded in 
a perfect cocoon. They have very little outside traffic 
beyond this hammock industry — the latter, when I was 
there, being carried on through the comandante del 



3IO A Sailor of Fortune 

Rio, General Brito, who had won a measure of their 
confidence. To General Brito they turned over their 
hammocks which, sold in Trinidad, were converted 
into Winchester rifles, ammunition and certain articles 
of clothing. The rifles were chief in importance, which 
would indicate that the people of mystery have recog- 
nised the use of modern arms, and though peaceful 
are prepared to resist any probable invasion. 

I may add that there is a tale of some long ago ex- 
pedition — perhaps of the early Spanish days — that at- 
tempted to enter the forbidden valley only to be 
repulsed with such ghastly slaughter that the effort 
was never repeated ; the only undertaking of the kind, 
since, having been a project on the part of the Vene- 
zuelan Government to gain entry on a plea of taking 
the census of this unregistered tribe. The Venezuelan 
officials first pleaded with and then threatened the 
guards at the little river gateway. Then they came 
away strong in the conviction that it was better to keep 
their own names on the census rolls than to try to carry 
the blessings of civilisation into the happy valley. Its 
inhabitants could go uncounted to the crack of doom 
for all they cared ; they probably wouldn't be interested 
in asphalt and revolution, anyhow. 

During my residence in Venezuela I saw two parties 
of these strange people, each party consisting of seven 
persons in charge of General Brito. We were building 
some small huts (ranches) for the workmen, and 
needed a quantity of temeche palm for thatching. We 
finally contracted with General Brito to build a num- 
ber of these huts and thatch them, complete. When the 
frames were ready, he left and went up the river, 



A Mysterious White Race 3 1 1 

returning a few days later with a very large curiara 
or canoe (fashioned from a great single log), loaded 
like a hay boat with the temeche, and manned by seven 
unusual-looking white men. 

There were several hundred employees at our works, 
yet none of them had ever seen such men as these 
before. Curiosity ran high, for they wore what re- 
sembled European clothing, and we all knew there 
were no white strangers in our neighbourhood. Be- 
sides, no white men of our race were ever so adept at 
using a paddle as these. When the canoe grounded 
and General Brito came ashore, I said to him : 
" Who and what are those men ? " 
" Those," said General Brito, " are some of the 
famous White Indians of Venezuela. I have con- 
tracted with them for the temeche, and persuaded them 
to bring it here, I thought you might like to see a few 
specimens of this race." 

I watched them intently while they unloaded their 
craft, which they did in a brisk, busy way, saying not 
a single word during the operation. Then by Brito's 
invitation they pulled their canoe up high and dry on 
the shore and gathered around him. 

I had an excellent opportunity to study their physi- 
cal characteristics, and I think I was never so im- 
pressed by any human beings. In the first place they 
were absolutely different from any people I had ever 
seen. They were white, it is true, but it was not the 
white of the Caucasian, nor yet the pallor of the 
arsenic eater, or of disease. It was a strange, inde- 
scribable white that would attract attention anywhere, 
and, though so unusual, did not repel. In their cheeks 



3^2 A Sailor of Fortune 

there was a pinkish hue, but their skin showed no tan 
or burn, such as one is led to expect in that fierce 
climate, where the thermometer ranges at from 122° 
to 130° at midday. 

Their features were well formed and regular. They 
had moderately high foreheads; full, round, but keen, 
eyes; well formed noses; mouths indicating firmness; 
beautiful ears; well rounded chins. Their hair was 
coal-black, but not coarse. In figure they were graceful 
and of medium height, with a weight of perhaps one 
hundred and forty-five pounds. They stood erect and 
were apparently of great strength. Their hands and 
feet were well formed and seemed small. 

Their clothing, as I have said, was European. It 
had been purchased in Port of Spain, evidently, and 
the wearers seemed quite at home in it, though it was 
General Brito's belief that such attire was never worn 
inside their own domain. It was put on for contact 
with the outside world, and then only by a few. Such 
native dress as he had seen was very simple, and was 
not unlike that worn by the darker tribes. What was 
the female attire, he could not guess, as never in all 
his forty years' experience in that district had he seen 
a woman of this white race, nor a female child. He 
knew little of their language, and absolutely nothing 
of their manners and customs, except that they had 
learned the use of firearms and tobacco. 

You may imagine how intently I studied the little 
group, while these curious people in turn showed a cer- 
tain mild interest in us and our surroundings. We 
tried to get them to ride up to the superintendent's 
house on the train, but they preferred to walk rather 



A Mysterious White Race 313 

than trust themselves behind a locomotive. They en- 
tered the building, however, and were taken through 
the various departments, the office, the kitchen, and 
the store, all of which seemed to give them a quiet 
pleasure. In the store we treated them to some refresh- 
ments and cigars, both of which they took without 
reserve. Then we showed them the carpenter shops; 
also the wharf, where vessels were being loaded. They 
went aboard one of the vessels and walked about the 
decks, gazed up at the lofty spars and down into the 
hatchways, but they could not be persuaded to go into 
the hold or the cabin. After two or three hours with 
us they pushed their curiara off the river bank, and 
seizing their paddles were soon out of sight around a 
bend of the river, homeward bound. 

About a week later General Brito brought down 
another load of temeche palm with another, and en- 
tirely different, crew of the strange people. They be- 
haved precisely like their predecessors, and in a brief 
space disappeared into their mysterious seclusion and 
we saw them no more. General Brito said that he had 
never seen any sign of gold or treasure among them, 
and he thought the stories told were largely mythical. 
It was possible, he thought, that they might have cer- 
tain jewels and articles of gold and silver, used for 
ornament or religious service, but he believed it un- 
likely that domestic implements would be fashioned 
of any precious metal, for they knew its value and 
would use their surplus to supply their needs. Yet it 
is just possible that in their wisdom they have never 
let any sign of their mineral wealth appear, realising 
that to do so would excite the cupidity of the cruel 



SH A Sailor of Fortune 

conquering race which has destroyed every other 
aboriginal nation of the South, and incite a struggle 
which would end in their own extinction. For one, 
I sincerely hope that through ages to come they may 
maintain the peace and seclusion of their happy valley. 



XLIX 

Locating Cervera's Fleet 

I REMAINED for a considerable time in South 
America after severing my connection with the 
Bermudez company, engaged in various under- 
takings. Eventually I v^ent to Caracas, thence to 
Carupano, where I remained several months, making 
a survey of a railroad route to the vast sulphur de- 
posits there, also of the deposits themselves and of the 
harbour of Carupano — a chart of which was published 
by the United States Hydrographic Office at Wash- 
ington, and for which the Government of Venezuela 
very kindly decorated me with the order of the Bust 
of the Liberator. 

Meantime, war between the United States and Spain 
had been brewing, the Maine was blown up in Havana 
Harbour, and the Spanish fleet commanded by Ad- 
miral Cervera was somewhere on the water — knowl- 
edge of its exact locality being the most important bit 
of information which could be supplied to the United 
States Government and the American people, espe- 
cially to those residing near the coast. 

I had a theory concerning the movements of these 
vessels, deduced from my long experience at sea, my 
acquaintance with the needs and operations of such 
ships, and my knowledge of the various harbours and 
bases of supply absolutely necessary to their support. 

315 



3^6 A Sailor of Fortune 

I had, further, a plan for passenger-steamer scouting, 
by which I believed the enemy could be more carefully 
observed and reported without exciting suspicion than 
from any naval vessel. There were passenger steamers 
that made every port of supply available to the Span- 
ish Fleet. I decided to undertake such a tour of ob- 
servation, and tendered my services by letter to the 
Navy Department at Washington. The authorities ap- 
peared somewhat doubtful of my plan, at first, but on 
May nth (1898) I was supplied by Secretary John 
D. Long with the necessary credentials, with orders 
to report by wire through our consuls. 

In the meantime I had been doing some detective 
work in port. I casually interviewed every man that 
came to Caracas from the West Indies, but found only 
one who claimed he had seen the Spanish Fleet, and 
that a long time before. 

I did at last, however, find a genuine source of in- 
formation in the valet of the Spanish Minister at 
Caracas. The valet by no means confided anything 
to me direct, but he was shaved in a barber shop kept 
by a Frenchman, and from the earliest dawn of his- 
tory the barber has been noted no less for his ability 
to acquire information than for his soothing and lo- 
quacious distribution of such knowledge. I believe this 
particular barber meant to be discreet, but we were 
very good friends, and he did love to talk, especially 
as I made it a point to shave with great frequency — 
as often as twice a day sometimes — and was not un- 
generous in the matter of fees. 

I never met the valet personally, but I manufactured 
information which I knew would be repeated to him, 



Locating Cervera's Fleet 317 

and which could not fail to elicit something- of value 
in the way of reply. Thus, in a manner, I rigged a 
long-range suction pump on him, and little came into 
the Legation at Caracas that did not find its way 
through the barber into my reservoir of knowledge. I 
learned, what I had suspected, that Cervera's fleet was 
bound for the West Indies, also at what points the 
vessels were expected to coal. This was important, 
but not sufficiently exact as to the matter of time. 
Perhaps I should mention in passing that there were 
some anxious days and nights in Caracas about this 
period. A rumour became current that the Spaniards 
had planned to massacre every Yankee in the city — 
a little bunch of less than forty souls, all told — and 
for a while the American contingent was considerably 
disturbed, especially as President Andrade thought it 
necessary to place an armed guard around the United 
States Legation. 

On May I2th I went prospecting to La Guayra, and 
after locating Mrs. Osbon, who was me, at the Hotel 
Neptuno, I met a little coloured boy whom I had 
known at Guanoco, and who was now in the cable 
office at La Guayra. Here was an unexpected mine of 
information. The cable operators talked among them- 
selves, and my little coloured friend overheard much 
that was going on. I presented him with a silver dol- 
lar and told him what I wanted to know. That evening 
he met me by appointment, and I learned from him 
where the Ristormel — a collier loaded with four thou- 
sand tons of coal, was expected to meet Cervera's fleet. 
Knowing the marine geography of the coast as I did, 
and all the possibilities and probabilities of navigation 



31 8 A Sailor of Fortune 

in that part of the world, I felt sure now that I could, 
without great difficulty, locate the missing fleet. 

I went out next morning, and secured passage 
north in the Dutch steamer, Prins Frederick Heinrick, 
Captain Neiman, which would call at Curagao, Jacmel, 
Aux Cayes, and Port au Prince. At one of these ports, 
or en route, I felt certain that we should find the 
Spanish ships. I immediately telephoned to Mr. 
Loomis, then our minister at Caracas, that I was going 
north in the Dutch boat, and he informed me that a 
messenger would come down on the three o'clock train 
with despatches. 

It was six o'clock on the evening of Friday, May 
13th, that we sailed from La Guayra — an unlucky 
combination in the matter of dates, one might think; 
but this time the evil charm which is supposed to be 
attached to Friday and the thirteenth day failed to 
work. Perhaps as two negatives make a positive, so 
the very combination of two bad omens makes a good 
one. At all events, it was a calm, pleasant night, and 
there was a congenial company aboard the little Dutch 
vessel. Among the passengers were three American 
boys named Davis, upon whom I felt I could rely if I 
needed any assistance in carrying out my plans. I con- 
cluded, however, that it was too early to expect de- 
velopments that night, and I retired early saying 
nothing to anyone. Nevertheless, I had a strong sailor 
presentiment that on the next day there would be 
something to see or hear. 

At five next morning I was awake, and partly dress- 
ing myself, went on deck. The dim outline of the 
Island of Curagao appeared on the horizon, but too 



Locating Cervera's Fleet 3^9 

dim and far away to reveal anything in the way of 
vessels there. I went below and was in the act of shav- 
ing when I heard the man on watch report a sail off 
the starboard beam. I hurried on deck and met the 
captain, who said there was some smoke to the east- 
ward. I went below again, finished my toilet, and 
going out on deck, ascended the rigging. Looking 
away to the eastward I saw the smoke of a squadron. 
The captain called up, 

" Those are English vessels, going from San Lucia 
to Jamaica." 

"Not much!" I called back; "those are Spanish 
ships. That is Cervera's fleet ! " 

Increasing daylight and lessening distance estab- 
lished my claim. I knew the names of the vessels, and 
before long could recognise them from their pictures. 
There were the Maria Teresa, the Viscaya, the 
Oquendo, the Cristobal Colon, and the two torpedo 
boats, Furor and Pluton — a third, the Terror, having 
been crippled and left behind at Guadeloupe. To see 
them thus was to me a beautiful sight. They did not 
look beautiful when I saw them at closer range, but 
distance concealed their unsightliness, and moreover 
they were glorified to me in the fact that my scouting 
theory was so promptly justified, and that I had lo- 
cated the game. All the machinery of the Government 
had been put into service to discover the Spanish Fleet, 
and now here it was under my very eyes. A cable to 
Washington, and a nervous nation would know the 
truth. 

As we drew nearer I made a careful survey of the 
vessels, their armament, their draft of water — which 



320 A Sailor of Fortune 

told me how light they were with coal — the character 
of their crews, and their appearance in general. I be- 
gan to see now that they were less beautiful than I had 
at first thought them, though it was not until we were 
directly upon them that the fulness of their sad condi- 
tion became apparent. 

Meantime, the officers in a pilot boat had entered 
the Harbour to arrange for the admission of the ves- 
sels. Cervera desired that two of his ships should be 
permitted to enter for the twenty-four hour limit, and 
then two more, for the Ristormel, the collier, had thus 
far not effected a conjunction with him and his need 
was very great. Two vessels only, his flagship, Maria 
Teresa, and the Viscaya, were accorded the privilege. 
The Davis boys made photographs as the vessels passed 
in — probably the last ever taken of the Spanish ships. 

I was the first passenger ashore at Curagao, eager 
to get in touch with Washington so that Sampson or 
Schley might be sent swooping down upon the enemy. 
I had my cablegram all ready, with full details as to 
the condition and needs of the vessels, all of which 
was most important, as it would enable our experts to 
calculate precisely on the force necessary to oppose 
them, as well as upon probable movements. Our con- 
sul, Mr. Smith, however, was a man of commercial 
rather than military instincts, and having informed 
me that he had already forwarded the facts of the 
fleet's arrival, thought that sufficient. A cable from 
Mr. Loomis settled the matter, and my report was 
forwarded, forthwith. 

I had by this time communicated the fact of my 
special mission to the three Davis boys and enlisted 



Locating Cervera's Fleet 3^^ 

their aid, which they gave with patriotic eagerness. I 
found that our consul owned the only coal pile of any 
value on the island, and that it was feared pressure 
might be brought to bear upon him to dispose of it, if 
not to the Spaniards, at least to some one who would 
direct its course toward the bunkers of the Spanish - 
fleet. Without hesitation, therefore, I posted one of the 
Davis boys as a guard on the coal pile, and warned 
the consul that any disposal of the coal by which it 
would be transferred to Cervera's vessels would be re- 
ported to the authorities at Washington. I am afraid 
he was not very pleasant over the matter; but he re- 
frained from violence, and our guard proved effective. 

The other two Davis boys acted as scouts, and I also 
enlisted the services of some patriotic friends in Cura- 
sao. Among us we kept near to all the Spanish officers 
who came ashore, listening closely to their talk, with 
the hope of getting a clue to their next destination. 
They were very careful, however. They talked freely 
of various points in the West Indies, all of which I 
knew to be out of the question for them — only once 
letting fall the name of Santiago. 

This was their most accessible harbour, and the fact 
that they spoke the name but once and then imme- 
diately avoided it, convinced me that Santiago was 
to be their final haven. I promptly added another 
cable to this effect, but I have every reason to believe 
that it was never sent. If it was, I have been unable 
to learn of the fact. Consul Smith is dead now, and 
I would not for the world do him an injustice; but 
it was my opinion, and it was the opinion of many in 
Curasao, that he had been in tropical latitudes so long 



322 A Sailor of Fortune 

and had so many commercial interests there, that he 
was not in full sympathy with the nation he officially 
served. 

Meantime, the Maria Teresa and the Viscaya were 
laying in needed supplies. Lighters loaded with pro- 
vision and the refuse of a coal pile — the only fuel out- 
side of Smith's in Curagao — were moving to and fro, 
making good use of the time limit. Well for them 
that they had even this grace, for their need was indeed 
bitter. While we had been lying outside, waiting for a 
pilot, we had a fine opportunity to examine our enemy 
at close range. That they were our enemy, made it 
needful that we should do all in our power to oppose 
and circumvent them, but I can tell you there was not 
even mirth in my heart as I regarded the pitiable con- 
dition of the Spanish Fleet. 

The line of vessels that had presented so grand an 
appearance as they steamed up on our starboard beam 
became only a wretched looking lot of iron hulks when 
viewed at a distance of a hundred yards. A vessel in 
perfect condition is a beautiful thing; but on the other 
hand when she looks " tough " she looks " awful 
tough," and of all the " tough " vessels I have ever 
seen, those of Cervera were the worst. 

Being so light, they rolled heavily and revealed bot- 
toms fouled thickly with weeds and barnacles. Above 
the water line they already had the general appearance 
of the scrap iron which they were doomed to become. 
As for the crews, they were gaunt, listless, and hollow- 
eyed with hunger, with never a smile on the faces of 
either officers or men. In fact, there was something 
almost uncanny about the appearance of those vessels 



Locating Cervera's Fleet 323 

and their crews. They were Hke the ghosts of vessels 
and men, long at the bottom of the sea. A mournful 
sight they were, making manifest a naval poverty such 
as I had never imagined. To prophesy anything for 
them but defeat was to excite derision. They were not 
even a forlorn hope. Men and vessels, they were 
doomed. 

During Cervera's stay in Curagao cablegrams from 
Spain and Cuba were constantly coming, and early on 
Sunday afternoon a message reached him which 
caused him to prepare for immediate departure. Coal- 
ing ceased and even some of the livestock, though 
already paid for, was not taken aboard. Men were 
summoned, boats hoisted, and the Viscaya and Maria 
Teresa steamed slowly down the harbour, to be joined 
outside by the remainder of the fleet. I posted a look- 
out on the highest point of the island to watch the 
ships so long as they were visible. Evidently they were 
steaming for the little island of Bon-Aire, where they 
would transfer some of their supplies, and where they 
perhaps still hoped to meet the missing Ristormel. I 
felt certain that Santiago was their destination. They 
had too little coal to try for Cienfuegos or Havana, 
and, besides, there was the constant danger of meet- 
ing Sampson or Schley. 

I tried to prevail upon Consul Smith to let me use a 
small Dominican steamer which he controlled to fol- 
low the fleet at a respectful distance and make certain 
of its course; but my request was refused, with the 
result that Cervera did make Santiago unseen, and for 
a time lay safely hidden in that port. 

Our own vessel, the Prins Fredrick Heinrick, sailed 



3^4 A Sailor of Fortune 

from Curagao Monday afternoon, and all the way to 
the North I and my faithful assistants, William, Clive, 
and Clare Davis, did scout duty, keeping watch, night 
and day, and making diligent inquiries in different 
ports. We accomplished nothing further, however, and 
arriving in New York I placed a detailed report in the 
hands of the United States despatch agent in the Post 
Office building, and went home for a needed rest. A 
few days later I received the Department's acknowl- 
edgment and thanks.* I had expected no other re- 
w^ard. I did receive, however, from Leslie's Weekly a 
modest sum in payment for a brief account of the 
matter, published June 23d; and in this I prophesied 
that the battle which followed ten days later might 
be desperate, but that it would be short, as, indeed, 
it was. When we saw those vessels disappear below 
the horizon at Curasao we knew that they went to cer- 
tain annihilation. 

* Washington, June 3d, 1898. 
Sir: — The Department received your letter of the 28th ultimo, 
reporting your observations of the Spanish Fleet off and in the 
port of Curagao, and detailing your work as a volunteer scout 
while on your way to New York. The Department appreciates 
your patriotic, interest in this matter, and thanks you for your 
very interesting report. 

Very respectfully, 
Chas. H. Allen, 

Acting Secretary, 
Mr. B. S. Oshon, 
No. 15 Whitehall St., New York City. 



L 

In a Quiet Harbour 

THE destruction of Cervera's fleet occurred at 
Santiago de Cuba, July 3d, 1898. During the 
following month the Spanish-American war 
ended, and with it closed my last participation in naval 
affairs. There has been no opportunity for action of 
any sort since then, and, besides, the reader of a 
mathematical turn of mind will perhaps have calcu- 
lated that I was already, in 1898, beyond the Scrip- 
tural age limit allowed to man in these latter days, 
and hence, though still hale and brisk, I am no longer 
considered so available for active duties of the service. 
My later years have been passed in comparative quiet, 
and in an effort to live comfortably on such modest 
means as have been at my command. 

As I recall my life now, after thus passing it in re- 
view, the incidents seem to crowd one upon the other 
so rapidly that I wonder sometimes where I have 
found room for them all. Yet they were all there, 
and there have been others which I have not found 
space to recount. Perhaps I should have made some 
reference to the half-dozen books and pamphlets I 
have compiled from time to time, for though they did 
not seem to me of any special importance at the mo- 
ment of publication, I realise now that they were not 
without a place and purpose. One volume, a " Hand- 

325 



3^6 A Sailor of Fortune 

book of the Navy " * — a list of every naval vessel 
then in existence, and a brief history of the same — 
v^as used by the Navy Department in considerable 
numbers, and is still, I believe, accepted as authority 
for that period. Another little book, " The Deviation 
of the Compass," was regarded as useful by mariners, 
and had a satisfactory sale. 

Then I suppose I should make some record of cer- 
tain posts of honour which in the course of events have 
fallen to my share. In 1890 I was elected captain of 
the Naval Veterans, at their annual encampment in 
Boston — in 1891 commodore, and in 1892 rear ad- 
miral of the association, filling each office for the 
period of one year. During this time I was also nomi- 
nated for the office of junior vice department com- 
mander of the New York State Grand Army, losing 
the election by six votes. On the following year I was 
nominated again, but, through some jealousy then ex- 
isting, a report was circulated that I was not eligible, 
it being declared that I was never on the roll books 
of the Navy.t I had no desire to fill the office after 
that, but as an answer to my detractors I obtained 
letters from officials and a number of my old shipmates, 
and these, with a few other credentials which I had pre- 

* " Osbon's Handbook of the Navy." D. Van Nostrand & Co., 
N. Y., 1864. 

t DEPARTMENT OF YARDS AND DOCKS. 

Navy Yard, Boston, Mass., Aug. 20th, 1892. 
Captain B. S. Osbon, 

New York City. 
Dear Sir and Shipmate: 

It gives me great pleasure to bear honourable testimony as 
to your services on the Hartford from January to May 1862 



In a Quiet Harbour 327 

served, I compiled in a small leaflet, after which I was 
annoyed no more in that direction. My effort has been 
only to serve well, and as senior oflicer of the Naval 
Veterans I had the good fortune to be able to further 
the publication of the " Official Records of the Union 
and Confederate Navies," a work not yet complete, but 
being now well and handsomely issued. 

It also fell to my lot to organise the parade which 

as Flag Officer Farragut's Clerk and Signal Officer. I remember 
distinctly the zeal and energy you displayed and the commenda- 
tions you received from Farragut on a number of different occa- 
sions, but especially on the night we passed Forts Jackson and 
St. Phillip. You were always ready for duty, whenever any ex- 
pedition or reconnaissance was being set on foot. You certainly 
did your whole duty while you were an appointed officer on 
board of the Hartford and it affords me pleasure to make these 
statements. 

Yours very truly, 

Albert Kautz, 

Captain U. S. N. 

U. S. STEAMER, SAN FRANCISCO, 
Flagship of the Pacific Station. 

Honolulu, H. I., July 17th, 1892. 
Commodore B. S. Osbon, 

National Association of Naval Veterans, 
United States, New York City. 
Dear Sir and Shipmate (in former days) : 

I regret that any one has questioned the fact of your having 
served your country in battle, and am glad to be able to say that 
you were with us when we passed Forts Jackson and St. Phillip 
when the City of New Orleans was held by the Navy, that you 
were then Flag Officer Farragut's Clerk and also personally at- 
tended to the signals. We were shipmates, and you left the 
Hartford with a grand reputation. Captain Kautz is Captain of 
the Yard at Boston, and he will also be able to certify to your 
services, also Mr. Herbert Tyson of Philadelphia. I have heard 
of your excellent record since you left the Hartford. Rear 
Admiral Irwin, U. S. N., at present commandant of the Mare 



328 A Sailor of Fortune 

escorted the body of John Ericsson to the iron vessel, 
the Baltimore, that was to bear him to his native 
Sweden, and when the Saint Gaudens bronze statue of 
Farragut was erected in Madison Square, Mrs. Farra- 
gut, with her thoughtful kindness, asked me, as his 
old signal officer at New Orleans, to be present, and, 
at the moment of her unveiling the statue, which was 

Island Navy Yard, remembers you in Dupont's squadron and I 
think by your request will write you a letter. It is annoying to 
have any doubt upon one's War Record but any attempt to deny 
your having been under fire in the passage of the Forts with 
Farragut must recoil. 

Yours very truly, 
As a shipmate of war times, and a Naval Veteran, 

J. C. Watson, 

Captain U. S. N. 

147 PiERREPONT St., Brooklyn, June 28th, 1892. 

Captain B. S. Osbon, 
Dear Sir: 

I have received your letter and am quite astonished to hear of 
any question being raised in regard to your services during the 
War of the Rebellion. I feel provoked to write anything about 
a matter which is so well known to your great credit, and know- 
ing of your services in the U. S. Flagship Hartford as I do 
I feel the most profound contempt for those who have caused 
you any annoyance. The idea now in '92 to question your serv- 
ices 41 years after the war began. You were Admiral Farra- 
gut's Clerk and Signal Officer. At Pilot Town, mouth of the 
Mississippi, you assisted in hoisting the flag there. At the battles 
of Forts Jackson and St. Phillip, you hoisted by order of Farra- 
gut the signal for the attack to begin, and during that ever 
memorable battle when the Hartford was aground and on fire 
you did all you could to allay the excitement among some of 
the men, and extinguished the fire. The next day, April 25th, 
at the battle of Chalmette you were very active in the perform- 
ance of your duty signalling and carrying messages to the divi- 
sion officers at the great guns, myself among that number. At 
Carrollton above New Orleans I saw you leave our ship with a 



In a Quiet Harbour 329 

draped with American colours, to hoist the admiral's 
flag on a little flag staff which had been erected by its 
side. 

Thus I was to render a final homage to the man 
I had served and honoured in life, who in that noble 
bronze stands there at the corner of Madison Square 
Park looking out over the heads of the passers-by, 
just as I have seen him standing amid flame and battle- 
smoke looking toward New Orleans, determined to 

force which went on shore to capture the rebel guns and burn 
the gun carriages which the rebels left in their batteries, as we 
had to leave there and did not wish the rebels to return and 
obtain their guns during our absence. I saw you go with the 
Admiral, then Flag Officer, before the battle of New Orleans, 
on a reconnaissance in a small steamer, the Iroquois, and while 
on that duty you were under a heavy fire from both Forts Jack- 
son and St. Phillip. If the " bummers " who have maligned you 
were ever under such a fire as that, I really believe they would 
be like the frog in the fable, burst with self-importance. After 
you left the ship honourably, I heard of you during the entire 
duration of the war. I have no more to say except that you give 
my compliments to your enemies and tell them to go to Hades. 

Yours truly, 

John L. Broome, 
Lieutenant Colonel, U. S. Marines, 

NAVY PAY OFFICE. 

New York, June 24th, 1892. 
This is to certify that the records of this office show that 
Bradley S. Osbon, Flag Officer's Clerk of the West Gulf Block- 
ading Squadron, was paid Prize Money for captures made at 
New Orleans by said Squadron. 

A. J. Clark, 
Pay Director, U. S. Navy (in charge). 

NAVY DEPARTMENT 

Washington, D. C, July 20th, 1892. 
Sir : Referring to your letter requesting information in regard 
to your appointment, service and discharge as Clerk of the late 



33^ A Sailor of Fortune 

fulfil orders, to carry out his undertaking, regardless 
of shot and shell. That was David Farragut's chief 
characteristic — to fulfil orders. He was a God-fear- 
ing, gentle-hearted, noble man, averse to shedding 
blood, but before all he was a sailor in the service of 
his country and he let nothing stand between him and 
victory. It was so at New Orleans — it was so later 
at Mobile where, unhappily, because of a wasting 
fever, I could not be with him. Yet I can understand 
how he looked there, and just how his voice sounded 
when he said, " Damn the torpedoes ! Go ahead on 
the engines ! " I have seen the look and I have heard 
the voice — and now as I pass that statue I never fail 
to recall the night between the forts, and I lift my hat 
in honour of the man to whom death was nothing — 
to whom his nation's cause was all. 

On the 17th of June, 1895, I commanded the fleet 
of vessels in the water parade on the occasion of the 
opening of the Harlem Ship Canal, leading over one 
hundred vessels of all types through the canal without 

Admiral Farragut, U. S. Navy, in the year 1862, I have to In- 
form you that it appears from an examination of the records that 
you were appointed Flag Officer's Clerk for duty on board the 
U. S. S. Hartford January 20th, 1862, and you resigned said 
appointment April 30, 1862. In view of the facts stated and 
of the commendations subsequently made by Admiral Farragut 
of your conduct during the engagement which resulted in the 
capture of New Orleans, your service under the above-named 
appointment appears to have honourably terminated on the date 
of your resignation. 

Yours very respectfully, 

B. F. Tracy, 
Secretary of the Navy, 
To Mr. B. S. Oshon, 
New York. 



In a Quiet Harbour 331 

an accident or a moment's delay, a feat highly com- 
mended by naval officers and the public press. 

And so we have reached the end of our long v^ay. 
And a long way it is, for it began far back in another 
century, while just a little beyond the horizon is the 
signal buoy that will tally four score years. I voyage 
now in quiet and familiar waters. The compass no 
longer points to unknown harbours, over uncharted 
seas. The course is no longer marked by the flash of 
cutlass and the roar of guns. Like any other craft 
of a vanished time, I have been retired from the fiercer 
action of the front, trying to be content with the 
memories of the vanished days. Yet the smell of pow- 
der puts it all before me and makes me long some- 
times for the flash and roar of battle — to feel the deck 
lift and rock to the thunder of heavy guns. Perhaps 
the old craft may be good for another voyage yet — 
something with just enough of the flavour of con- 
quest and adventure to set one's pulse going and make 
him forget the years. 

But a few blocks away from my present snug har- 
bour, at the foot of Twenty-fourth Street, New York 
City, is moored another old craft — a friend of my 
youth — the sloop of war, St. Mary's. The reader may 
recall how I first met her at Honolulu, and how we 
helped her to defend Hawaii from the Frenchmen, so 
long ago. She is a school ship now, and often I go 
down to visit her, and talk to the boys, who, I think, 
are always glad to see me, and to hear my sailor yarns. 
The St. Mary's is of my time and kind — the sort of a 
vessel I know and love best. To me, of course, the new 



332 A Sailor of Fortune 

ships and the new commanders can never be as the old 
ships and the old commanders. Yet the new ships com- 
pel my wonder and admiration — the new commanders 
will as bravely guard the nation's welfare, maintain 
its honour, and keep the old flag flying on every sea. 

In every war our Navy has been the nation's pride. 
During the early days of the great Civil struggle, when 
the Confederate Commodore Barron — captured at 
Hatteras and confined at Fort Warren — heard of the 
Port Royal affair, he forgot for a moment his change 
of heart, and jumping up, exclaimed : " I tell you, noth- 
ing can stand against our Navy ! " 

Commodore Barron was right— nothing can — noth- 
ing ever did stand against the American Navy. It is 
my humble opinion that so long as our nation remains 
united and free, nothing ever wilL 



THE END 



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